Forever Finding You
by BlueFeatheredRaven
Summary: Ten years after a terrible car accident, Gilbert is elated to find that his dear friend, Oz Vessalius, has finally begun to awaken from his comatose state. However, Oz is unaware of the time that has passed. AU OzXGilbert
1. Prologue

_**Prompt: **__OzXGilbert AU - Oz and Gil are childhood friends who secretly have feelings for each other, but after being in a car accident, Oz falls into a coma. 10 years later, Gilbert is the only one who continues to visit him in the hospital, and it is after these ten years that Oz finally wakes up, completely unaware he's been asleep so long. __Fluuuuuuff please? With tears and hugs and Gilbert trying to help Oz adjust/get through rehab/etc._

Yes, I started another new fic ^_^; Sorry! I just couldn't help it :) I know the title seems a little awkard, but it suits the story :)

On the plus side, it got me out of my writing funk (the Kink Meme saves the day again!), and if I manage to keep up the pace the next chapter of _Loyalty _should be up in the next day or so; sorry for the delay!

But back to this story... It was more of a venting excercise for me, but I ended up really enjoying it, and since I do intend to make it a multi-chapter fic it seemed like a better idea to post it here, rather than take up so much space in the Kink meme with it (Like I did with _Masters and Servants/Dominance _^_^;). I haven't decided exactly how I'm going to write Oz's rehab (I need to research it a little more), but I think this could be a fun side story :)

I won't be updating it again until I have some of my other fics updated, but I thought I may as well post a bit of it ^_^ Anyway, without further ado, here is the Prologue to _Forever Finding You_; I hope you enjoy! ^_^

**O-O-O**

**Forever Finding You**

**Prologue**

**O-O-O**

It was early November, and the weather had taken a turn for the worse. The temperature of the air was frigid, but the rain fell far too heavily to allow snowflakes to form. Most would have stayed at home on a day like this, or rushed back there the moment they were free from work or school. Most people would not have pulled on a thick coat and risked a cold in order to race to the bookstore the moment they were free of work just to pick up their preordered novel. Most would not have abandoned the bus stop shelter and, once again, brave the cold, wet weather because the bus was 'taking too long'. Most would not have ran all the way to the hospital just so they could make it there before visiting hours began, so that they could make the most out of their visit.

But Gilbert Nightray was not like most people.

He arrived at the hospital ten minutes before visiting hours began, soaking from head to toe, his face flushed from exertion. He had managed to prevent the novel getting wet by hiding it beneath his jacket, which he was forced to leave at the front desk because it was dripping with water. Shoes squelching beneath his feet, Gilbert made his way down the quiet corridor and towards the room he had been visiting on an almost daily basis for… what, was it ten years now? It seemed like far less and far more at the same time…

As he walked, he read the black numbers that had been carved onto the silver plate around the door handle of each room along the left side of the corridor, something he did by habit more than anything else, because he could have found his destination with his eyes closed. 101, 102, 103… Until he reached the room numbered '115', where he stopped. When he did, something within him sparked, despite his best attempts to suppress it.

Even after all these years, there was still a moment where his heart would stop as he reached towards that door handle. A moment when his heart, ignoring his head, elated with the hope that when he turned that handle and stepped inside, he would be greeted by bright emerald eyes and that beautiful, sunshine smile had always banished his darkest worries away with the tiniest quirk of the lips that formed it.

But every time, his foolish heart was left disappointed, deflated and falling, leaving a cold well of disappointment in his chest. Every time, he opened the door to his best friend's hospital room, and was greeted with nothing but the steady bleep of the heart monitor, the gentle bellowing of the breathing machine, and the thin, motionless form of his best friend.

This time was no different.

"Hello, Oz," he whispered quietly as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, as if he were afraid of waking the comatose blond that lay before him. Heh… if only it were that simple. "I brought you something."

Even though it had been ten years since the accident, Oz Vessalius was still the image of the boy that Gilbert had met in his younger years, if a little taller. His pale skin had healed of all scars over time, his blond hair trimmed regularly to the very same style he had always worn, and he had even managed to somehow retain his youthful appearance, despite the fact that he was an adult, now. Gilbert wondered if it was the steroids and various other drugs that he had been given that appeared to have stunted his growth, and thought, with amusement, of how annoyed the boy was going to be when he woke up and found out that he was only a few inches taller, while his best friend stood at a height of six feet.

He smiled warmly down at the boy as he approached the side of his bed, reaching down and pushing a few golden strands of hair from his face. Even with the mask covering the lower half of his face, Oz always looked so peaceful. It was as if he really was only sleeping, and that the smallest noise would wake him from the peaceful dreams that weaved their way through his thoughts. Maybe that was why Gilbert often found himself whispering to his friend, rather than speaking aloud. He allowed his fingers to trace Oz's features lightly, simply watching, unaware of the seconds ticking by until the book almost slipped from his idle right hand. Jolted back to reality by the novel, he gripped the chair situated next to Oz's bed, pulling it closer and sitting down.

"Look," he said, still quietly, as he lifted the book upward to show his friend, "I got you the brand new Holy Knight novel." Silence was all that greeted the dark-haired man when he paused for response, but he continued regardless. "I preordered it this time… The thirteenth book in the series, and it doesn't seem to be showing signs of ending anytime soon. I bet that makes you happy, right?" Leaning back in his chair, Gilbert carefully opened the book on the first page. "You better pay attention," he said, glancing upwards, "because I'm not repeating myself. Alright… Chapter One: Reverse Corte…"

He read though the chapter at a comfortable pace, pausing only to adjust himself in his seat, or to lean forward so that he could lay the book on the bed and fold his arms on the edge. He continued onto the next, and the chapter after that, also, though he did interrupt himself halfway through to tell the boy that his uncle, Oscar, was out of town, and that was why he hadn't been to visit that day. "I'm sure Ada already told you that when she visited earlier today, but I thought I would mention it, just in case…"

By the time he had reached the halfway point of the forth chapter, it was time for him to leave. Thanking the nurse and promising to be gone soon, Gilbert closed the novel and opened the cupboard next to Oz's bed, placing the novel on top of the twelve other books stored within, before pushing himself to his feet and brushing the creases from his clothes. "I have to go now, but I'll be back again tomorrow," he whispered, stepping up next to Oz and reaching downward to gently hold his friend's right hand. He could not hug him, or hold him… This was the most physical comfort that he could offer the person he had watched over all these years. It seemed unfair, and he wasn't even sure if Oz could feel it, but it was the best he could do.

"Happy Birthday, Oz…" he whispered softly, squeezing the blonde's hand gently.

He could have sworn he felt his friend squeeze back.

_"If only…"_ he thought with a sigh, loosening his grip on Oz's hand…

Only to realize that the boy's fingers were, indeed, curled around his own. He started, eyes shooting down to their still-connecting hands, his heart beating just a little faster. The blonde had no great hold on Gilbert, but his fingers had definitely wrapped around Gil's own. That… had never happened before…

And when he raised his gaze, sightless eyes of dull emerald stared back at him.

Gilbert thought that his heart would literally leap out of his chest, his stomach twisting sharply and throat instantly tightening.

He… had to be dreaming… This… Oz couldn't really…

But he was looking _right at him!_

Did he dare to hope?

"O… Oz?"

The sound of his name seemed to break the spell, or whatever force it was that had kept the Vessalius' eyes open, because the moment Gilbert spoke Oz's eyes fluttered and closed, his hand falling limp, something like a mixture of a sigh and a groan escaping him as his body returned to its limp state.

But his breathing had changed, and Gilbert could see that his friend was struggling to open his eyes again.

It took several seconds for the golden-eyed man to realize what had just happened, his body and mind frozen in shock.

But then he shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and placed Oz's hand back on the bed before racing out of the room, calling out for a doctor, or a nurse, or anyone who would listen. He didn't care that people were sleeping. He didn't care that he couldn't stop crying.

Because Oz Vessalius had woken up.

After ten, long years, his precious Oz had finally, _finally_ woken up...

**O-O-O**

**To Be Continued**

**O-O-O**


	2. Chapter 1

This is an extended version of the 'chapter' I posted on the Kink meme, because… well, it looked too short ^_^ I couldn't figure out how to end it, though, and I feel like I wrote too much and not enough at the same time :S Hopefully the next one will be much better ^_^;

As you'll see from this chapter, Gilbert is a very different person in this fic, but he's supposed to be :) Don't worry, as the story progresses, the silly title will make more sense ^_^ (Or it should, at least!). Thank you sooo much to everyone who reviewed! **Smeepalicious, Pholo, Elyona-chan, FiOeX, kunf'you'z-ed, TotalAlias, YakuKikyo, Avrilla de Senetaz, willa1313, Wyaline **and **Suimomo**, thank you all so much for taking the time to review! ^_^ And Iove that people noticed the Holy Knight and Pandora Hearts connections; such loyal fans! :)

Alright, on with the chapter!

**O-O-O**

**Chapter 1**

**O-O-O**

_Oz and Gilbert's friendship had not been a mutual agreement._

_In fact, Gilbert had wanted absolutely nothing to do with young blonde from the very first time he had seen him. He wanted friends – What child doesn't? – but he was also far too afraid to trust anyone. Having been abandoned as a child by his mother, and after witnessing his own little brother succumb to pneumonia at a young age, Gilbert feared the pain of relationships with other people more than anything else._

_**Betrayal… Deception… Loss… Loneliness…**_

_Oz was a happy child, loud and active and involved with everything around him, smart and interesting and good at pretty much any game a child could think of… He was the complete opposite of Gilbert, the quiet, almost cripplingly shy child who barely spoke a word unless it was absolutely necessary._

_They were far too different… And yet it was those very differences that he found so fascinating about Oz, the very things that reminded Gilbert of everything he was lacking in himself. He was not confident, or smart, or friendly, or talented… It hurt to be reminded of these things. It was painful just to know of him, so Gilbert wanted nothing to do with him._

_Unfortunately, Oz appeared to want everything to do with him._

_He barged into Gilbert's life, unwelcome, and forced the poor child to be his friend by always picking him first for teams, or trading seats so that they were next to each other in class, or by leaping to his feet and announcing Gilbert as his partner the moment a class trip or project was mentioned. He annoyed the boy by flicking pieces of paper at him during class, confusing and, admittedly, amusing him when the dark-haired boy would actually look down at the pages and realize that the blonde had drawn smiley faces on most, with the words "Smile!" written underneath some of them. He even took to calling him 'Gil' without ever asking permission to do so, and completely ignored every attempt the boy made to get away from him, often following him all the way to the bus stop and talking to him until he got on, before turning around and heading back the way he came._

_Over time, and almost against his will, Gilbert had begun to open up to the boy, so desperate for the human connection that he feared so much, so blinded by this savior in the dark that reached out and took a hold of him when he had been allowing himself to drown in the shadows of melancholy. One day he told Oz everything; about his brother, his mother, the orphanage and how much he hated it, how much he hated school, how much he had wanted to hate Oz… And the boy had supported him. He accepted everything he was and promised that he would protect him from then on, that he would always be there for him, even if no one else was, and that he would never let anything bad happen to Gilbert ever again. It was his duty as Gil's best friend, after all. He had laughed at the younger boy's shocked expression, reaching down grabbing hold of the boys hand in order to pull him to his feet, grinning all the while. After this, the near-silent boy had less trouble taking part in conversations. He let himself enjoy the games they played, and fret over the potential trouble they would get into for said games. And he allowed himself to laugh and smile for what felt like the first time in an eternity…_

_To this day, he still did not understand why Oz had chosen him above everyone else in their class to be his friend, but he was very glad he did…_

_Those five years they spent together before the accident had been the happiest of his entire life, the friendship Oz almost forced upon him leaving such an impression that, for ten long, difficult years, Gilbert would remain by his side._

_Because three years after his precious friend had promised to protect him, Gilbert had sworn to do the very same. He had promised to stay by Oz's side, that if the cruel forces that taunted them both with illusions of happiness were to tear apart the world they knew, he would remain constant. He would not be changed, because he had already seen darkness, as had Oz._

_In a world full of lies and deception and betrayal, they would always be loyal to each other._

**O-O-O**

Gilbert really wished that in all the years he had sat by the side of his comatose friend, that he had taken the time to look up the condition itself in more detail.

Contrary to his understanding, just because Oz had opened his eyes did not mean he would be awake or even functional any time soon. He had felt physically sick, the smile on his face vanishing and the happy tears in his eyes appearing to halt in shock, when he had returned to the room to find Oz completely motionless, save for the gentle rise and fall of his chest, no longer trying to wake himself. The doctor had brushed passed him and begun to check Oz and the machines around him, muttering quietly and asking the dark-haired man questions, but Gilbert saw and heard none of that. He walked silently across the room as if he were in a daze, his eyes studying Oz's face closely, searching for any movement, any sign that he might be waking.

He found nothing.

Reaching down, he gently took his friend's hand in his own, fingertips running across the back of Oz's hand in the process. "Oz?" he whispered, feeling his throat tighten when his friend, as ever, made no response. "O-z?" his voice cracked, eyes welling up. "C-come on… You…"

"Mr. Nightray…" the doctor's voice finally reached him, but just barely.

"He was awake!" he exclaimed, never taking his eyes off his friend. He felt his legs weaken beneath him and he collapsed to his knees, his whole body shaking and tears once again falling unchecked from his eyes. "H-He looked at me. I saw him! I-!" He froze. "Oh God… I-I didn't-?"

"Mr. Nightray please calm down," the doctor said, his voice firm as he lay a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "We will monitor him very closely just to be sure, but if he really did wake up then it is not unusual for him to be asleep now. When somebody wakes up from a comatose state, it is normally for only a few minutes at a time. If Mr. Vessalius is indeed recovering, then it could be another entire day before we see a reaction from him again, if not more."

"Then…" Gilbert raised an arm and dried his eyes on the back of his sleeve, "Then… he's getting better? When will he wake up again?"

"We cannot be sure of that," the doctor said stifly, "we can only keep an eye on him and see how things progress."

"Can I stay with him?" Gilbert asked, tear-reddened eyes finally turning away from Oz to gaze hopefully at the doctor. "Until he wakes up?"

The doctor frowned, "Mr. Nightray…"

"I'll stay out of the way. I can sleep in the chair; I've done it plenty of times."

"You understand that it could take hours, or days, or even-"

"Please, doctor?" Gilbert pushed himself to his feet, but he never released Oz's hand or moved away, "I don't want him to be alone when he wakes up..."

Under normal circumstances, the doctor would have been a lot more strict and insisted that Oz's family were the only ones who could decide who stayed with the blonde while he was being monitored. However, Gilbert was quite well known by many members of the hospital staff, and this particular doctor was also one of the few aware of the 'incident' that had occurred only months after the accident. As such, he could only sigh and shake his head before answering, "I'll call his family and let them know the situation. You can stay as long as they say you can."

"Thank you," Gilbert sighed with relief, allowing himself to drop back into the chair he had been sitting in earlier, lowering his head and pressing his forehead against Oz's hand, "Thank you…"

He was certain that the doctor wanted to say something to him, but the man appeared to think better of it, because the next thing Gilbert heard was the door closing quietly, and when he raised his gaze, he realized that he and Oz were, once again, alone.

He knew what that man was thinking…

_"But I know what I saw…"_ Gilbert thought, squeezing Oz's hand lightly, _"I know what I felt…"_

Oz was coming back to him… Of that he had no doubt.

And he would not leave his friend's side until he did.

**O-O-O**

"S-So my brother could really be getting better? Really?"

The doctor felt somewhat guilty for it, but he could not help but smile at the childish excitment in the young woman's voice; she sounded very like Gilbert in ways, the slight quiver in her tone suggesting that she was also crying. Still, he could not afford to get her hopes up. "We cannot be sure as of yet. Like I said, Mr. Nightray is the only one who has claimed to see him awake, so-"

"Y-Yes, I know…" Ada interrupted, though her voice was suddenly much quieter, "You think he could have imagined it…"

Did she sound offended? "We can't rule that out, I'm afraid."

"I trust Gilbert…"

"I'm sure you do, Miss Ada," the doctor said, his tone sympathetic, "but we both know that he-"

"Wh-When can I come to see Oz?"

"Ah…" the doctor sighed; clearly, she did not want to listen to this. Maybe she thought that Gilbert had fully recovered, but as far as he was concerned the very fact that the man had barely missed a visit in ten years (adding up to well over three thousand visits) was enough evidence to prove the man was still unwell. "You can come whenever you like, Miss Ada, but I would advise against visiting tonight as it's unlikely that there will be any changes before tomorrow."

"Alright then… Thank you very much, doctor."

"You're very welcome."

If he knew anything about that girl, or her Uncle, they were going to be here in the next half an hour. He also knew that they would have no qualms letting Gilbert be the one by Oz's side when he woke, because they were the ones who had spoken to Ms. Hendrick personally and forced her to let Gilbert continue to see Oz in the first place.

Really… For all their sakes, he prayed that Gilbert wasn't imagining things again. He also hoped that they realized that, if Oz was recovering, then the next few months were going to be very painful indeed. It would be days before Oz could stay awake, and he could have trouble speaking. Then would come the physiotherapy, and this was all assuming that Oz's mind had not been affected by the crash and the ten years of sleep.

Well, there was no point in worrying about that until Oz really did wake up, he supposed.

For now, he could only hope that Gilbert was right, and that Oz was strong enough to pull through.

**O-O-O**

"I'm not going anywhere…" Gilbert whispered softly, rubbing his thumb over Oz's fingers as he did so, smiling warmly at the sleeping figure before him. "So don't be afraid to come back… I'll be right here, waiting for you, just like always…"

So close… He knew he should not get his hopes up. It always went wrong when he did… But he had seen them, those emerald eyes he had missed so much. Dull, unfocused, but still Oz's eyes… It had been so long…

It felt like he had been given a taste of what he had been lacking all this time, and now he was reminded of how painfully he missed it all; the sound of his voice, the music in his laughter, the warm feeling of his touch and the beauty in his eyes…

Silently, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips against the back of the blonde's hand. A single tear feel and landed upon fragile skin warmed by his simple gesture of affection… Of longing…

Of love…

He smiled sadly and shook his head, pulling his chair closer so that he could lean his arms on the bed, holding Oz's hand in his own. He briefly glanced over the monitors, the machines keeping his precious friend alive, but then his gaze was focused entirely on the face of the boy before him.

And then he waited.

**O-O-O**

Ada Vassalius did indeed arrive in just over thirty minutes, armed with a ready-meal for Gilbert, as well as a duffle bag of clean clothes for him ("I knew you would be soaked!" she had half joked, half scolded upon seeing him). The pair had embraced, both shaken and uncertain, but perhaps less cautious in their happiness than they should have been in their given situation. They sat together and spoke excitedly about the young man that had brought them together, laughing about the past. That was how Gilbert and Ada usually spent their time together: remembering. Ada spoke about school and her plans for the future, yes, but she knew that Gilbert himself was always set firmly in his younger years, going through the motions of a working adult only because it was necessary, so she was quite willing to spend the time with him reminiscing. She loved Gilbert like a brother, after all, and loved Oz so dearly that she was more than happy to indulge in pleasant memories of her always cool, always amazing older brother, especially when it was the only thing that seemed to make her friend happy.

Ada stayed the night, falling asleep in one of the chairs with her head on Gilbert's shoulder, the elder man covering her with a blanket and wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders so that she didn't fall. He did not sleep, terrified that, if he did, he would miss that moment when Oz would wake, that moment when he could really see his friend again.

But Oz did not wake up that night, nor did he stir by noon the next day. Ada made a quick trip home when her uncle arrived at two o' clock, the man having been out of town when he heard that his nephew may have been waking. After the initial greeting and general banter, Oscar and Gilbert had fallen into a comfortable silence, the kind that only existed amongst family and close friends or partners. The doctor had insisted they return home and rest, saying that he would contact them if anything happened, but the trio had been quite stubborn.

By six o' clock, the only movement that Oz had done had been performed by the nurses.

"He's probably just doing this to make us worry," Gilbert said quietly from where he sat, his arms folded on Oz's bed and his chin resting on his forearms, eyes still locked on Oz's face. He had hardly averted his gaze in almost twenty-four hours.

"He always was a kidder," Oscar observed with a loud, hearty laugh, while Ada simply smiled and nodded.

"Come on Oz…" Gilbert reached a hand out and gently touched the side of the boy's face, "this is low, even for you."

"I don't know," Ada said, "Remember that time he and I hid from you in that old warehouse, and didn't come out until you started crying?"

Gilbert's eyes momentarily moved to the young woman and his face flushed. "Did you have to bring that up?" he muttered, embarrassed, but the blonde-haired girl only giggled. "Alright, that was pretty bad," he admitted with a sigh, turning his attention back to Oz, pinching a lock on the boy's hair before curling it gently around his index finger. "You're such a trouble maker…"

Oscar frowned slightly, but folded his arms and turned his attention towards the window instead, ignoring Gilbert's actions.

"If you don't wake up, I won't read you anymore Holy Knight Chapters," Gilbert said after a few minutes of silence, still twirling the boy's hair idly. The way he was acting and speaking was as if he had forgotten that Ada and Oscar were even in the room, his attention and actions focused solely on his friend.

Ada was finding it harder and harder to keep her expression positive, fear and doubt trying to transform her radiant smile into an uncertain frown. _"Could it… have happened again?"_ she wondered. The doctor had tried to warn her, but she had thought that Gilbert was better…

"And if that happens, you'll never know how it ends…"

_"It's only been one day,"_ Oscar, who had been following the same thought process as Ada, tried to reassure himself. _"The doctor said there might be no signs for a long time. Don't start jumping to conclusions just yet."_

"So you have to…" Gilbert's voice faded, his sentence left hanging, before he suddenly straightened up, causing the other two people in the room to jump slightly in surprise. "O-Oz?"

Both Oscar and Ada were completely frozen for a moment before they both leapt from their chairs and bound over to Oz's side. Part of them feared what they would see; that Oz would be fast asleep, but that Gilbert…

Hazy green eyes blinked blearily at the ceiling, a confused sound escaping the young blonde before he coughed lightly, eyes forced closed by the apparent pain caused by such a minor act. Gilbert was on his feet and once again clutching the boy's hand in an instant, while Oscar stood at the opposite side of the bed and called his nephew gently, Ada darting towards the door to find a doctor.

"Oz?" Oscar breathed, overcome with shock, "Can you hear me?" This couldn't be real… Surely he had fallen asleep, and this was all a dream. He was almost ready to accept that thought, but the moment he nephew blinked and turned his head slightly in his direction, a spark of awareness alighting in his tired, confused eyes, he knew that the powerful feelings he felt could not have been formed in a dream world.

Beneath the mask, Gilbert saw Oz open his mouth to try and speak, but only a tiny, almost inaudible noise escaped him. His eyes grew slightly wide in surprise, the muscles in his face and shoulders that appeared to have awakened tensing with nerves, and again he tried to speak, but his vocal cords refused to create the sounds he wished to emit. It tore Gilbert's heart to see his friend struggle, fearful eyes begging his uncle for answers while more of his body began to awaken and panic, but… Any sound, even those tiny, strained ones that caused the blonde more stress than comfort, were like music to Gilbert's ears. It was cruel, but the fact the Oz could feel fear at all meant that he was truly here, that he was aware of his surroundings and himself, and that made the dark-haired man so happy he wanted to cry. Oscar hushed his nephew, telling him everything was alright, but Oz continued to look around him in a panic, his breathing pattern becoming shallower, the monitor by his bed alerting his family and friend to his quickening heartbeat.

"Calm down, Oz, it's okay…" Gilbert said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder and applying just enough pressure to somewhat still the boy's movements, "You're safe. You don't need to be scared."

_Look_… Please, let Oz just _look_ at him. Let him _see_ him…

Oz, appearing surprised by the sound of Gilbert's voice, turned to regard the tall, dark figure of his best friend, still gasping softly and with fear still written in his eyes. But Gilbert could only smile warmly down at him, so full of relief and joy that he felt as though he could burst with the strength of it all. He was back… Oz was… Oz was really here, _looking_ at him. He had spent so many years just sitting next to the boy, speaking to him, reading to him, taking care of him, all the while never knowing if Oz was even aware that he was near. Now… _now_…

He wanted to say something to express what he felt… But there were simply no words to describe it. His world had suddenly become a brighter place, his future now devoid of the same silent days he had spent by the boy's side praying for him to wake, the sleepless nights he worried he would not be able to cope much longer. It was all transformed by the single glance of a friend… A dear, precious friend… "Welcome back…" he whispered, using his free hand to wipe tears from his eyes.

Oz blinked, the fear in his eyes slightly dulled, replaced instead by a look of curiosity that was so very familiar that Gilbert almost wanted to laugh to relieve some of the force with which his heart appeared to push against his chest, like a caged bird trying to escape it's prison.

But when Oz turned his head back towards his uncle, clutching the elder man's hand tightly and trying, once again, to speak, Gilbert felt as if a cold, iron hand had suddenly clamped down on his happiness. It was not so much the act itself that had hurt… it was the look in Oz's eyes, the fleeting look that raced across his irises before he turned away.

There was no warmth… No joy… No familiarity…

He… didn't recognize Gilbert…

Gilbert felt his stomach twist violently. No… No, it couldn't be… Oz wasn't… He couldn't possibly have-!

But… Oz was only looking at Oscar… He was holding his uncle's hand tightly, while the one Gilbert held remained unclenched yet strained, as if he were struggling to avoid holding on (_He was trying so hard _not_ to hold on_). When the doctors arrived, it was Gilbert who had to move out of the way, because it was Oscar's near-attempt to move that had earned a startled whimper from the bedbound Vessalius.

He had to let go. He had to step away. From the one and only thing in his entire life that he had allowed himself to truly care about.

"Gil…" Ada was by his side, sounding almost and lost and uncertain as he felt. She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it lightly in an attempt to comfort both herself and her friend. As he watched the doctors speak to Oz, explaining to him that he'd been in an accident, but that he was safe now, the dark-haired man held Ada's hand so tightly he was certain he was hurting her, but the only pain he could acknowledge was the cold, piecing fear that struck his heart like a knife, chilling his entire body in an instant.

The overwhelming happiness he had felt mere moments ago already felt like a distant memory. He had been brimming with joy, but now he was shaking with fear. A fear that Oz did not remember those days. That he did not remember Gilbert, or the friendship they shared, and that the lives they had lived together had been wiped from the boy's mind in the accident.

"Gil?" Ada whispered again, looking up at him with worried eyes.

"He…" the Nightray breathed, watching his friend try to speak, struggling to remain in place when the boy started to cough, "didn't recognize me…"

To his surprise, Ada appeared relieved by this revelation. "That's alright, though," she said, tightening her hold on Gilbert's hand when he tried to pull away in response to her words, "because it's been over ten years since he has seen you, or me, or anyone… You've grown up since then, Gil. That's why he doesn't recognize you."

Gilbert blinked, and he stopped trying to pull his hand away from the woman by his side. Maybe… She was right? Of course, it had been many years since Oz had last set eyes on him. That's why... "That must be it," he concluded, "he just doesn't know how long it's been…"

"I'm sure it is," Ada said with a gentle smile, trying her best to hide the fact that the news was quite upsetting for her. She had grown up without her big brother, but, somehow, the fact that Oz hadn't been aware of the fact seemed almost too cruel to comprehend.

But to Gilbert, it was a huge relief. At least Oz would know him… At least they could work this through together and-

"G… Gil…"

The sound of his own name, whispered in the raw, hoarse voice of his best friend, caused Gilbert to start as if an alarm had been set off next to his ear. He automatically moved to step forward (_Oz was calling him_!), but he was held back by Ada, and he did not struggle when he noticed his friend was still looking at his uncle, completely ignoring the doctors that spoke to him and seeming, if it were possible, even more distressed than he had a few second earlier.

"G… Gi…" Oz forced out, wincing slightly and allowing his head to sink into the pillow, apparently dizzy. "C... Ca..."

_Car_?

The fact Oz remembered that much both excited and horrified Gilbert.

"He's fine, Oz. Gilbert is perfectly fine," Oscar hushed, gently petting the boy's hair and staring at him with such a pure look of love and relief that it was little wonder they had often been mistaken for father and son. "You just worry about getting better, alright?"

Even in his current state, Gilbert could almost feel the young Vessalius' burning determination, his will to push onward and stay awake so that he could get all the answers and understand what was going on. Unfortunately, his body held none of the strength required to do so. After only a few short minutes, the blonde had fallen asleep once again.

Ada was the first to utter a sound, unable to contain her quiet sob. Gilbert had turned and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair as he, too, began to cry. Oscar laughed and teased the pair, but only because he knew neither of them would dare to raise their heads and see the tears in his own eyes. The doctor and nurse that had arrived with the young Vessalius girl had excused themselves once they had finished checking on Oz, giving the three of them a moment alone.

"T-Thank you, Gil," Ada said, squeezing the man as tight as she could, "if it wasn't for you, we may never have..."

"Yes," Oscar said, raising a hand up to ruffle the man's dark hair affectionately, "thank you, Gilbert. For taking care of him, and for never giving up on him."

Gilbert, in response, could only shake his head and hold Ada closer, unable to stop himself from wishing more than anything else that it was the girls brother in his arms in that very moment. All this happiness, momentarily tamed when his friend had not recognized him, had completely overwhelmed him when Oz had uttered his name.

_After ten years, Gilbert was the first person he thought about when he woke up._

In the back of his mind, he knew that this was not the end. He knew that things were going to be difficult, and that there could be problems. Maybe Oz would be unable to walk. Perhaps his speech would never recover. If he remembered the accident, then maybe he would be damaged in a way that was not physical, but mental. That was another battle entirely…

And yet as Gilbert watched Ada lean down and kiss her brother's forehead while Oscar flashed him a grin that the Nightray was certain he had not seen since before the accident, all those worries seemed to fade away, if only for a moment.

For a moment, all that he felt was a sense of happiness so strong it drained him of any energy that could have been spent on worrying. When the doctor called the three of them out into the corridor in order to explain the situation to them properly, he told the two Vessalius that he would join them in a moment, moving to Oz's side once again. The blonde had not reacted to any of this. Once he fell back to sleep, he hardly moved at all. But there was something different about him now… Because Gilbert knew. He knew, rather than hoped, that Oz was going to wake up again. He was going to see those eyes, and hear his voice, and feel his warmth, all outside the boundaries of his dreams.

When he held Oz's hand this time, he felt a little awkward. Over the years, part of Gilbert's mind had accept the idea that Oz was probably unaware of his actions, and so he had stopped feeling quite as self conscious about the way he acted around his friend, the tender touches and the words he spoke. Now, however, there was an immediate possibility that Oz could hear and feel him, and that made him all the more aware of his actions and how his friend could feel about them.

He wanted to hold him close, but he didn't. He wanted to lean down and place a kiss on the boy's forehead, as his sister had, but he didn't. He wanted… He wanted… He wanted… And yet he did not take. Oz would be embarrassed if he did, or if he ever found out that Gilbert had done any of these things before. He had never treated Oz in this fashion when they were young, after all (even if he had wanted to).

That would change.

Now that he finally had him back, he was never going to let him go.

He couldn't _bear_ the thought of losing him again…

"Gilbert? Could you come here for a minute?"

"Right…" the man nodded as a signal to Oscar, showing the man that he had heard him despite the fact he had not yet moved from Oz's side. Truthfully, he did not want to go, but he knew that the sooner he went and listened to what the doctors had to say, the sooner he could return. "Welcome back, Oz…" he whispered again, placing his friend's hand down on the soft white sheets of the boy's bed. With no small amount of reluctance, he took several steps backwards before finally turning towards the door.

Part of him was still afraid that this was all fantasy (If he stepped out of this room, would he wake up?). But, in his heart, he knew it was not.

_Not this time._

As the door clicked shut behind the twenty-four-year-old man, a peaceful silence feel within the hospital room. Once again, the steady bleeping and bellowing of the machines around the sleeping blonde were the only sounds to break the silence.

In that silence, Oz released the quietest of whines, and his hand twitched a little, sliding ever so slightly across the sheets. Reaching out, as if searching for something it had lost.

Something warm…

Something true…

Or… Maybe… Someone…

"_Gil…"_

**O-O-O**

**To Be Continued**

**O-O-O**


	3. Chapter 2

Ok, I have tried to read about comatose patients, but I just can get a grasp on the entire process (And I already made mistakes!). I'll work with the info I have, but it's probably not accurate. Sorry! I'm not a doctor ^_^;

Here's a quick little chapter to keep things moving. This one wasn't very good either… Maybe I'm not out of my funk after all. Oh well, guess I'll just have to keep writing until I'm happy with them again :) Also, I've put a poll in my profile to see which fics I should work on more. If you have the time, please pop by and vote; I'll do my best to follow the results ^_^

A big thank you to **YakuKikyo, Avrilla de Senetaz, Smeepalicious, Orcux, Lyziebell, Suimomo, Suiseiseki, FiOeX**, and **Princess Himeko**, who reviewed the last chapter. I really appreciate it! ^_^

Now… onto Chapter Two! ^_^

**O-O-O**

**Chapter 2**

**O-O-O**

"B-But I can't leave now! Not when he-!"

"Gilbert," Oscar stopped before his nephew's room and turned to face the young man that had been following him, a hand outstretched and pressing against Gilbert's chest to stop him in his tracks. Over his shoulder Oscar could see Ada shuffling awkwardly, but she said nothing. "You can't come in here." The dark-haired man looked positively horrified by the man's words, golden eyes widening and skin visibly paling, as if Oscar had just sentenced him to death.

Of course, Oscar was aware of the possibility that being separated from Oz _was_ comparable to death in Gilbert's eyes.

"B-But," Gilbert stuttered, his gaze leaving the blond man's face to look at the door behind him, as if he expected to see his sleeping friend through it, "but I have to… He needs me to-"

Oscar sighed and shook his head. Had this been any other twenty-four-year-old, he would have told them to stop stuttering, stand up straight, and stop acting like a child… But this was Gilbert. He couldn't treat the young man like others his age, not after everything that had happened to him. "Listen," he said, choosing the stern approach rather than trying to convince Gilbert with kind words, "You're going home. You're going to have a proper meal, wash up, and get some sleep."

"But-"

"And tomorrow, you're going to go back to work," he continued, raising his hand to silence the young man before him as Gilbert tried to protest. "You can't just skip days whenever you like, Gilbert."

"I-I can quit." Gilbert insisted, eyes darting back and forth between the man he was speaking to, to the door, to the floor, as if he were not sure where he should be looking, "I hate-"

"You'll do no such thing," Oscar took a step forward and placed a firm hand on Gil's shoulder, forcing the man to look at him, "I know you're worried about Oz, but there's nothing you can do for him right now. You heard what the doctor said."

Golden eyes instantly darkened, the tension in Gilbert's shoulders appearing to lax beneath the heavy sorrow that seemed to suddenly wash over him. Oscar could not help but feel sorry for him, not when he was looking at him with those sad, confused eyes like a child that had lost its mother, but there was nothing he could do about it. His first priority was Oz, and right now, Gilbert was the last thing his nephew needed.

Though physically well, his body having healed off all injuries since the accident, Oz was still weak after being in a coma for such a long time. As such, the doctors felt that, at this time, telling Oz he had been asleep for just over ten years was not a good idea. The shock could cause a relapse, throwing the young Vessalius back into a coma before he had the chance to recover properly. Because of this, only Oscar, whose physical appearance had changed the least, was allowed to stay with him. Gilbert and Ada were forbidden from seeing him until the doctors felt him strong enough to handle the news. Ada had taken it pretty hard, but she held it in as best she could, trying to be strong for herself and for Gilbert, who had appeared completely shell-shocked by the ban. Unsurprising, considering visiting Oz had been part of his daily life for the better part of a decade.

"If you want to help, then take care of yourself. What would Oz say if you were dead on your feet when he saw you after all this time?" Oscar asked, shaking Gilbert slightly by the shoulder and smiling, trying to make the younger man feel better. It didn't seem to work. "This could take a while; work will help the time pass faster, and it will be good for you to think about something else."

"Um…" Ada stepped up next to Gilbert, "maybe… Gil could stay at our house tonight?"

"That sounds like great idea," Oscar said with a grin, giving Gilbert yet another shake, "I wouldn't want Ada to be left alone all night. You'll take care of her for me, won't you Gilbert?"

"I-"

"Great!" he exclaimed, not giving the young man time to formulate an excuse, spinning Gil around and pushing him so forcefully between the shoulder blades that he was sent stumbling several steps forward. Ada, clearly understanding the situation by her suggestion to keep Gil close, gripped her friends arm and instantly began to walk down the corridor, keeping the momentum from his stumble going so that by the time he was standing properly they were a respectable distance from Oscar and, more importantly, Oz's room. "Don't stay up too late!"

"We won't," Ada called back, never loosening her grip on Gilbert. Even as Oscar turned and entered the hospital room, he could almost feel the young man's eyes on him, but he wasn't too worried; other than Oz, Ada was probably the only person who had some semblance of control over the man without using intimidation as a tactic. Even after all of this, she was still able to talk some sense into him, sometimes without ever raising her voice above a whisper. If anyone could keep him away from Oz, she could.

"You really know how to pick 'em, Oz," he said as he sat down on the edge of his nephew's bed, smiling down at his sleeping face, "but I suppose if you wanted a loyal friend, young couldn't find anyone better."

Was loyalty the right word, though? Oscar may have cared for Gilbert deeply and knew how close he had been to his nephew, but the elder Vassalius could not deny the fear that the man's relationship with his friend was… unhealthy. Oz was Oscar's own flesh and blood, and he loved him with all his heart, but even he had stopped visiting the boy every day after the first year or so. He tried his best, but eventually he just couldn't take the sight of the boy's lifeless body anymore. He still came to visit him on his birthday, for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but as the years passed, the visits in between holidays became fewer and fewer.

Gilbert had never stopped. In fact, being able to visit Oz became the decisive factor in many of his life decisions. He tried to quit school at a young age so that he could visit him more, but Oscar had forced him to go back. Even so, Gilbert refused to go to college or even try looking for a job because he was certain that doing so would mean he couldn't see Oz anymore. The only reason he was working now was because Oscar had called in a favor and then pretty much ordered him to go.

Maybe there were people who thought it was sweet, but Oscar knew it wasn't normal. Gilbert didn't just care about Oz, he was positively obsessed with the boy, and the strength of those feelings sometimes frightened Oscar. Still… if it hadn't been for Gilbert, then maybe Oz could… no, Oz _would_ not have survived to this day. He knew Gil would never do anything to hurt his friend, and Oscar really did care for him, more than the young man would probably ever believe.

"We've done all we can for him, Oz," he said with a sigh, reaching forward and ruffling the young man's hair, something that he had not done in a long, long time, "So I'm afraid once you're well enough, he's your little basket case again."

Once he was well enough… He was so happy to be even consider a day that Oz _could_ be well again that he could not help but chuckle slightly, though he also felt his throat tighten and eyes warm once more.

Ten years… Ten very, _very_ long years…

The next time Oz awoke could not come soon enough.

**O-O-O**

It felt wrong to be leaving the hospital. His mind was screaming at him to go back, but his body was moving, aided somewhat by the way Ada kept her arms latched around his own, as if afraid he was going to run away and return to Oz if she didn't (maybe he would have). They took a taxi, and for the entire trip back to the Vessalius household all he wanted to do was throw the door open and run back to the hospital. Every time they stopped at a red light, he wondered if he could remove his seatbelt and jump out before Ada could stop him. Every time the car slowed just enough for him to leap without hurting himself, he fought with the urge to do just that.

He was silent when they eventually arrived at the house, only nodding or shaking his head in response to Ada's questions as they moved inside and the younger of the pair set about making dinner. She wasn't the most talented cook, but Gilbert had the distinct feeling that she didn't want him around any of the potentially harmful kitchen appliances at the moment. Well, he didn't really feel like cooking, anyway…

Halfway through dinner, by which time Gilbert had taken only two bites of his lasagna and pushed the rest of it around the plate, Ada cleared her throat to try and get the man's attention. She frowned when her friend refused to so much as raise his gaze from the table to acknowledge her, feeling her suppressed irritation begin to bubble to the surface. _"I know he can't help it…"_ she thought to herself, _"but that doesn't make it any easier."_

"Gilbert, please…" she said, trying to make her voice sound stern. She was always kind to Gil, always happy and encouraging and probably the only person who supported the man in nearly everything he did, but she had been forced to learn to speak against him over the years, also. It was a shame to see him this way again after he had been well for so long; the first few years without Oz were difficult, but Gil had eventually managed to find some sort of balance between the comatose Vessalius and his real life, never entirely happy, but certainly not depressed. He was easier to deal with, and far more pleasant to be around, but now…

Now he appeared to have reverted to his old habits in a matter of minutes, back to when he was a hazard to himself and Ada and Oscar had been forced to take on the responsibility of pulling him back to safe grounds. Neither of them begrudged Gilbert for this – they knew he couldn't help it, and they cared about him like he were part of the family – but she would not deny that it was exhausting. "You have to pull yourself together. You can't shut yourself off again, it's not healthy."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are!" She insisted, leaning forward across the table and placing a hand on Gilbert's, the one that held the fork that had been mercilessly crushing the man's food into slop. "I understand how you feel, Gilbert. Oz is my brother, and… And the fact that I'm not allowed talk to him, after all this time…" She felt hot tears burning at the corners of her eyes, instantly bringing her other hand up to wipe them away. She didn't want to cry, and she had managed to hold the pain inside far longer than she expected, but saying those words out loud seemed to have forced them out. Realizing that she would not be able to hold them in, she gave up and let them fall, sniffling slightly before turning her attention back to Gilbert. "I know… It hurts," she said, her voice suddenly strained, her heart physically aching as memories of her brother surfaced and shattered in the same instance, "It hurts because you've always been with him."

"Every day…" Gilbert whispered, his own voice a quiet croak, and only then did Ada spot the trail of silent tears running down his cheeks, hidden from view by the dark locks of hair that fell across his features.

"Oh Gil… Please don't cry. Everything is going to be okay…" Ada said, smiling despite her reddening eyes shaking hands, the second of which came up to join the first on Gilbert's hand. "He's awake now… We might now be allowed to see him for a little while, but when he's better, we'll get to talk to him all the time."

"I…" Gilbert's fist tightened beneath Ada's hands, his head lowering further, shoulders shaking slightly, "I don't… I can't…!"

"You can," Ada sniffed, releasing Gilbert's hands just long enough to move around the table so that she could stand behind her friend, who she wrapped her arms around and hugged, resting the side of her face atop the man's head. "You've been so strong for him already. I know you can do it, Gil…" She breathed a heavy sigh, smiling slightly when both Gilbert's hands raised to hold the arms around his shoulders. "Just a little longer… for Oz?"

She should have known… The moment her brother's name was mentioned the man started, hands tightening slightly on her arms and chest swelling a little as he took a deep, calming breath. Whenever it came to her brother, Gilbert's mind was made up; anything he could do to help his friend, he would, no matter the pain to himself. The next few days, or maybe weeks, would take their toll on the man, but if she kept reminding him that this was all for Oz's sake, then he should be able to control himself…

Maybe… The last time he had been forced to stay away from Oz things had escalated to a frightening level.

"You should go and take a shower," Ada suggested, knowing full well that Gilbert had no intention of eating his dinner. She loosened her grip around him and leaned back, her hands still resting on his shoulders. He seemed to have calmed down, thankfully. "I'll make you some tea when you're done." She was somewhat surprised when the man nodded and pushed himself to his feet, the young girl snatching his plate from the table before he had a chance to do so himself and pushing him towards the door, saying she would clean up. "You can take some of Uncle Oscar's nightwear and let your own clothes in the basket," she said as she moved towards the sink to wash up, "I'll clean them for you so you have something to wear to work tomorrow." For a moment Gilbert was silent, then she heard the sound of the kitchen chair sliding under the table, and he quietly muttered her name. "Hmm?" the young woman turned around to regard her friend with a smile.

Gilbert, in response, smiled shakily in her direction, nodding slightly. "Thanks a lot…"

"No problem, Gilbert," she responded, waving a little at the man as he left through the kitchen door and began to climb the stairs while she returned to work.

How long had it been since Gilbert moved out? With how normal it all felt to have him at the table, or how familiar their little argument about his need to buy new clothes was, it was as if he never left. As she tossed the man's laundry into the washing machine, she thought about the following morning and how relieved she was that Oscar had mentioned work to Gil. He was right; just going to work would do Gilbert a world of good, and maybe it would provide him with a little stability in this confusing time.

Now she just had to make sure he actually got up and went to work tomorrow. _"I guess I'll be taking the scenic route to school, then."_

She could always call Oscar after dropping Gilbert off…

**O-O-O**

[You have 5 new voice messages.]

"_-at stupid idiot never has his pho-"_

"_Hey! Seaweed-for-brains! Don't you know how to answer a phone? You better call me back as soon as you get this and tell me how Oz is doing! His space-case of a sister text me saying he was waking up, so… so call me back!"_

"… _G-! … Tch…"_

"_Gilbert, it's Eliot. Listen, I know you're worried about your friend, but you can't keep doing this. You know Ernest is just looking for an excuse, so if you want to keep your job I suggest you get your sorry ass back here as soon as you can."_

"_Don't worry about work, we'll cover you. Eliot's already running around like a headless chicken trying to-" "Reo!" "Talk to you later Gi-"_

[You have no new messages. If you would like to replay-]

Gilbert flipped his cell phone closed with a sigh, placing the item down on the bedside table and returning to trying to dry his hair with a towel. Eliot, Alice, Eliot, Eliot, Reo. He had been surprised to find so many messages left on his phone – no one ever called him – but he had skipped out on another days work without calling in… Really, he would have been fired long ago if Elliot didn't keep covering for him. Part of him really wished the boy would quit it; it wasn't like he wanted to work, anyway… but he needed the money, or he would have to move back here.

He looked around the room with a frown; it had been his for such a long time, and it hadn't been touched since he left. _"I wonder why they didn't convert it back into a guest bedroom?"_ he thought as he ran a hand experimentally through his hair, folding the towel and leaving it on the end of his bed when he was satisfied that it was dry enough_. "I owe them so much…"_ Would he ever be able to repay them? He had tried giving them money when he had started working, but they refused it. He had tried helping around the house, and a lot of the time they let him, but sometimes they would race ahead and do the work before he had a chance to, telling him to relax, that he didn't need to do anything… Very like how Ada appeared to be treating him right now.

Was she right? Was he… going back to…?

His hands came up and held his head for a moment before angrily ruffling his hair. No. No, he wasn't going back to that. He couldn't. He had to be strong and hold on, for Oz.

Oz...

"_He's finally awake and… And I'm here, instead of being by his side…" _Why did it have to turn out this way? Why could he not see the boy? Well, he knew the reason, but…

"_Calm down, Gilbert,"_ he told himself, _"it's just for a while. Just a little while. Then… Then you can see him all you want. Then you can talk to him. And… and he can talk back this time."_ This wasn't a dream. _It_ _wasn't_. If it was… if this was all just a dream, he wouldn't be able to handle it.

He quickly gripped the corner of the duvet and threw himself under the covers, wrapping himself up in that familiar floral scent that clung to all the washable textiles in the Vessalius house. It made him feel comforted and uneasy all in the same instance, but he curled into the warm, welcoming scent regardless of its darker undertones. _"I… I can't see him tomorrow…"_ he told himself, shutting his eyes tight, _"but… I can still go to the hospital, right? I can ask how he's doing?_" If he had to stop visiting the building entirely he would just become agitated. He knew Oscar wouldn't be happy with him, but if he went to work and stayed out of Oz's sight, then there was no reason for the man to be upset with him.

The more he thought about it, the more sense it made, and the security of that calmed him greatly. Yeah… he could still be there for Oz, and all he had to do was continue living as he had been. _"That's all…"_ he thought as his body began to unwind, lulled to sleep by the comfort of the familiar house, his bed, and his own thoughts, _"I can do that… I can live with that for a few days…"_

Sleep came quickly to the exhausted man, and he did not stir until he was shaken awake by a frantic Ada the following morning, throwing the man himself into a frenzy by stating that she had slept in and they were both going to be late. In truth, he was only worried about Ada, but since the girl insisted on walking him to work they were both forced to race around the house, trying to eat breakfast, get dressed and lock up before near sprinting down the street side-by-side.

It almost reminded him of those days he and Oz would run late for school, and his friend would always find a way to make it Gilbert's fault. He would protest, Oz would laugh, and he would give in. Every time, without fail, because there was just no point arguing with Oz.

_"Just a little longer..."_

**O-O-O**

It had been darker the last time… and the time after that… a little brighter the time after that… but he knew that this time, it was morning… The light coming in the window was too bright to be that of a setting sun, and the birds incessant twittering was a dead giveaway. Really, can't a guy get one day to sleep in?

He felt as if he were underwater, too weak to struggle against the heavy, suffocating substance all around him. He couldn't feel a thing except a warm, tingling sensation in his left hand... or was it his right? Now that he thought about, he could feel both, but the rest of his body may as well not exist, because he certainly couldn't feel it. Was he sick? Had he caught the flu again? He really hated the flu… he could hardly tell up from down the last time he got it.

The entire room seemed to swim before his eyes, the blurred figure at his side coming in and out of focus until he could just about make out enough features to realize it was his uncle. Maybe. Was it? Uncle Oscar had been there the last time… He'd been there every time, actually.

Why? What was going on? Where was he? What… what was that noise? O… 'Oz'? Why were… Oh, that was _his_ name, wasn't it?

What… happened? Was his ceiling always white? Didn't they paint it last summer?

"Oz?"

That voice again… Uncle Oscar?

His vision seemed to be clearing somewhat, and he was just about able to make out the elder Vessalius's face. Had he slept in again? Gil was _so_ dead for not waking him up… but Oscar didn't look mad… Maybe it was Saturday? Good. School was so boring…

It wasn't until the strange man in the white coat appeared next to his uncle that Oz truly started to wake up, shaken by the sight of the unfamiliar figure. His eyes moved away from his uncle to the ceiling and then the walls, neither of which looked like the ones in his bedroom. Closer to him was a large, bleeping machine, the kind he had only seen in films and TV shows.

In hospitals.

_The screeching of tires._

_The screaming._

_The __**pain**__._

Oz should have physically started. He should have jumped up and begun floundering around while trying to take everything in at once, but... He _couldn't_ move, and that fact, building upon the realization that he was in a hospital room, made Oz begin to panic, his heart racing and breathing becoming shallower.

"Oz, calm down, everything is alright…"

Everything was _not_ alright! What was going on? What had-? … Accident… He'd been in an accident? Someone had told him that already… Why didn't he remember that? … Wait… where was Gil? Was Gil alright? If… he'd been there too, hadn't he? Was he hurt?

It took him several minutes to wake up properly, and for his sluggish mind to recall the fact that he had already awoken on several occasions, asking about the safety of his friend each time. He tried to speak, but even his own tongue felt heavy and awkward in his mouth, his throat raw and sore and his words (if you could call them words) coming out slurred and awkward, if at all. The doctor told him not to speak, but that only earned a weak but clearly irritated glare from the blonde until he explained that he would need to take speech therapy sessions before he would be able to speak properly again. That had worried him; was it really that serious? If he could not speak, then how bad was the rest of his body? Was he paralyzed? Was he brain damaged in some way?

_And where was Gilbert?_

He didn't remember what happened next, but suddenly he was waking up again, only this time he remembered where he was. All this sleeping was getting annoying; it was a miracle he didn't have bed sores or something! Regardless of how annoyed it made him, his body refused to stay awake for very long before shutting down against his will. When he was finally able to stay awake for a decent period of time Oscar helped him sit up, and he listened to the doctor explain what had happened to him in detail, how they intended to help him recover, and the possible results of his overall rehabilitation treatment.

"_So in short… I might walk again. I might speak again. And I might be able to live a normal life. Maybe. Possibly. Sort of. Not likely,"_ Oz thought to himself, wishing with all his heart that he could speak those words to the doctor standing before him, colored with a bratty tone and finished off with one of his super effective, disappointed glares. Really, this guy just pissed Oz off. He knew he shouldn't think that about the man who would be caring for him, but to the blond, he was just a stuck-up doctor that clearly thought he was the coolest thing since snow. _"Is he even capable of sounding positive? I wonder how many off his_ _patients_ _offed themselves after one of his 'pep-talks'?"_

He decided not to let the man's negativity get to him, at least whenever he could help it. Injured he may be, but he was lucky to be alive, and he would do everything in his power to make sure that he did recover, and that he could return to his original life with nothing to show for his hospital stay except a few scars and… Some loose muscle in serious need of toning. "_Man… I'm going to get so fat and flabby if I just lie here." _Yet another incentive to get up and moving again.

When 'Doctor Sunshine' finally left, Oz turned his attention fully to his uncle, trying to figure out the best way he could communicate with the man. He hardly had the strength to move, let alone write, and his voice was pretty much useless.

"Let me guess; you want to know what happened to Gilbert in all this?"

Well… guess he didn't need a voice or hands if his uncle was a mind-reader, hmm? He managed a nod and a weak smile, which his uncle returned.

"He wasn't badly hurt, thankfully," Oscar said, "A few broken bones and a few nasty cuts, and he was quite shaken and worried about you, of course, but other than that he was perfectly fine. If it were possible I would have him here right now to see you, but you heard what the doctor said; he wants to limit visitors until you feel better."

"Wh…" Oz winced as his throat constricted painfully as a result of his attempt to speak, frowning in annoyance when his uncle looked at him with those sympathetic eyes. _"Don't look at me like that!" _Oz thought, embarrassed, hoping his uncle still had his spontaneous ability to understand his nephew's thoughts. He was relieved that Gilbert was alright, but annoyed by the thought that he would not be allowed to see his friend to assess his injuries for himself. Then again… he'd been asleep for a while, hadn't he? Maybe Gil's injuries had healed by now?

Now that he thought about it… how long _had_ he been asleep? It couldn't have been more than a few weeks at most; had the summer tests already started? Maybe that was his silver lining in all of this; no exams! He tried to ask this particular question, but his just couldn't form the words correctly. Frustrated, he was almost thankful by the drowsiness that seemed to be settling over him once again… almost.

Because he had the strangest feeling that Oscar was hiding something from him… He didn't doubt that what the man said was the truth (he was very good at telling when people were lying to him), but there was definitely something he wasn't saying. Was it about his condition? Was it about Gil? What? He was almost too tired to worry about it…

"Ada is fine, too. She can't wait to see you again."

Oz smiled sleepily at this, nodding in acknowledgement (as it was the only action he seemed capable of performing). Ada… Aww, he missed his sweet little sister's face! When was he going to get to see her? _"I hope it's not too long..."_ He thought, then yawned.

"Ha, sleepy again, lazy-bones?" Oscar asked, laughing when Oz tossed him a lazy glare. Thankfully, Oscar did not speak when he got to his feet and help Oz to lie down properly again. Somehow, the silence made it just a little less embarrassing, as if they were both ignoring the fact that he was incapable of moving that much on his own at the moment. Really, he was so useless, maybe it was a good thing Gilbert couldn't come to see him. He'd never live it down! "Just get some rest, Oz," Oscar said, "You'll need all your strength for those muscle exercises and what not."

_"Well, that's encouraging, isn't it?"_ Oz thought, rolling his eyes slightly to try and convey his feeling to the man by his side, which, judging by the way Oscar grinned, he did successfully. He had been rather frightened when he first woke up, and knew that when he was properly awake that he would probably be far more upset and alert than he was at the moment, but he was still too tired to muster up too much emotion. He knew that when he woke up they were going to start trying to make him talk and move, both of which felt as if they ranked right up with climbing Mount Everest in the difficulty department at the moment.

He would just sleep and forget all about it for now… And when he woke up, he would find the strength in his overall goal; to be well enough to see his friends and family again… Especially the friend that pretty much was family…

"_He better not have a cooler scar than me…"_ Oz thought as he closed his eyes and sighed, _"Gil's too useless to be cool…"_

He hoped Gil didn't have worse scars. He hoped Gil didn't have any painful injuries. He hoped Gil was well and happy without any physical or mental complications as a result of the accident… or anything else. Hell, if it were possible, Oz would take any injury the boy had and multiply it by ten, if that meant his friend was free of it.

"_You better be alright, Gil…"_ he thought as the last traces of consciousness began to drift into the darkness, _"Or I'll kick. Your. Ass."_

**O-O-O**

**To Be Continued**

**O-O-O**

Mostly suggestions about Gil's past in this one, but Oz and Gil will meet soon, don't worry ;)

I enjoyed it a lot more when I got to Oz; yay for fun stuff! :)


	4. Chapter 3

Another chapter! Sorry for the delay, I was meant to post this last week _ I know it's strange… I can't wait to actually get to the shipping scenes :) And Gilbert's past, as horrible as that sounds ^_^;

Thanks again to my reviewers: **webtail, TukkT, WhiteGamma, Pomatos, TotalAlias, li ross, Suimomo, YakuKikyo, Orcux, milktune, WendigoGirl, **and** Princess Himeko**! You're all the best, and you're support is greatly appreciated, thank you! ^_^ I'm really glad that people are enjoying this one :)

So, without further ado, here is Chapter 3! ^_^

**O-O-O**

**Chapter 3**

**O-O-O**

It turned out that Eliot's enraged lecturing, combined with angry customers, ringing phones, and whiney co-workers, was exactly what Gilbert needed to get his head straight. It was hard to space out or dwell on any one thought for too long when people were talking at him (not to him) left, right and centre, pushing his concerns about his friend away and replacing them with the immediate, if not trivial, problems of others. Really, it was incredible the amount of people who were too lazy to _read the troubleshoot guide_.

It didn't stop him from spacing out during the lull in work, however. Nor did it stop him sending over a dozen texts to Oscar throughout the day looking for an update, but that wasn't too bad, was it?

By the end of the day Gilbert felt like his brain was going to melt, but the moment he stepped out the front door of the building he felt a refreshing wave of relief wash over him, welcoming the light drizzle of rain that coated his skin after spending so many hours inside. His head certainly felt a lot clearer than it had the previous night… Clear enough for him to realize how insensitive he had been to Ada.

He frowned, pulling off his tie and throwing it in his backpack before slinging the bag over his shoulder. _"I'm such an idiot,"_ he thought as he opened his umbrella and began to make his way to the bus stop just down the street. Ada was probably worried sick about both her brother and him, and he had been so wrapped up in his own feelings he hadn't even thought to ask her how she felt about the entire situation. He got off a few stops before his own and went shopping, then made his way to the Vessalius house in order to make dinner for the young woman. It was quite a weak way to apologize, he had to admit, but Ada appeared positively ecstatic about it.

"Oh, that would be lovely!" she said as she opened the door fully so that he could step inside, "I haven't tasted your cooking in such a long time, Gil!"

"It's nothing special," he said, embarrassed by her enthusiasm, as he made his way towards the kitchen.

"Well, I think it is," Ada giggled as she followed him, "You're a great cook, Gilbert! No matter what you make, you somehow make it better than everyone else. Even something like hard-boiled eggs taste better when you make them!"

Gilbert blushed, "Ada, that's-" She was seriously exaggerating… But before he could say as much, the girl had hoisted herself up onto the counter and begun quizzing him about his day, what they were eating, and so on, keeping him company while he worked.

Dinner was relatively quiet, but it was not uncomfortable. As usual, Ada was the one who did most of the talking, mainly because the pair were avoiding the one topic of conversation that Gilbert was actually good at (not that it didn't drift towards Oz in the end; it was sort of inevitable). He wanted to ask her how she was doing, to tell her that he would be there for her when she needed someone to lean on, and that he understood how she felt… but he could hardly talk about his own feelings without falling apart, so how was he supposed to comfort someone else? How was he supposed to help her organize her emotions when she was the one that seemed to keep him together most of the time?

If it was about anything else, maybe he could help. But when it came to Oz…

"You're going to the hospital?" Ada asked with a slight frown, "But… we're not allowed to see him, remember?"

Gilbert mentally kicked himself when he saw the sadness in his friend's eyes, feeling far worse when he realized he had probably been ignoring that very same look the night before. "I know that… I'm not going to go in or anything, I just…" he looked down at his food and shuffled somewhat awkwardly, "I don't know, it's like I need to be there. If I don't go, I think I'd-" He shut his mouth tight, reconsidering the rest of his statement, but judging by the look on Ada's face she had already guessed what he had been going to say.

"I understand," she said, offering him a sad but encouraging smile, "You've been going there every day. I guess it would feel weird if you didn't, huh?"

"Yeah…"

"Can I come, too?"

Gilbert blinked and looked up, surprised, "If… If you want to. Are you sure?"

"Of course!" the blonde girl beamed, piercing a piece of meat with her fork and holding it near her mouth, "He's my big brother, after all. If there's anything I can do to help, I want to be there for him."

Gilbert could not help but smile as she returned to eating, nodding and thanking her quietly. When they finally did arrive at the hospital just over an hour later Oscar was clearly displeased, but he did not send them away. For that Gilbert was thankful, and even though being this close to Oz upset him, he knew it had to be far better than sitting at home doing nothing but wondering and worrying. Since there were no chairs nearby, he and Ada sat on the floor just outside Oz's room while Oscar went inside, chatting quietly and only falling silent when they heard a noise from inside.

Gilbert had thought things were going well… But it seemed that hearing Oz struggling to speak had shocked Ada, and the poor girl had quickly excused herself, saying that she needed the bathroom. When she returned, smiling and apologizing for running away, Gilbert took one look at her reddened eyes and felt his heart sting with guilt.

"Come here…" he whispered from where he sat, raising his left arm up towards the girl and making a small, beckoning motion with his hand. She appeared uncertain, even a little afraid, but she sat back down next to him and allowed the dark-haired man to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. A moment later she lay her head on his shoulder, before shuffling sideways and burying her face in his jacket, clutching the front of his shirt with her right hand. He rubbed her arm in a soothing manner as she cried quietly, resting his head on hers and humming a quiet tune. It was one that Oz had always sung when Ada was upset or he thought he was alone, one that had loved even though he would never admit it, claiming he only sang it for his sister. 'Lacie', was it? Gil had long forgotten the words, but he had often hummed the melody to Ada over the years. It made him feel closer to Oz, and it reminded Ada of the strong, protective presence of her big brother, helping and comforting them both in moments of darkness or heartache.

"What happened?"

Gilbert jumped slightly at the sound of Oscar's voice, turning his head to gaze up at the man who was closing the door behind him, his mouth set into a worried frown. "O-Oh," Gilbert stuttered, his attention returning to Ada, "We…"

In response, Ada merely shook her head and pulled away from him, drying her eyes and mumbling something about not being strong enough. "I-It's nothing uncle…" she said in a slightly louder voice, refusing to look up until she was certain she was somewhat respectable, smiling weakly, "I just miss Oz, that's all."

Oscar, who Gilbert had sensed was ready to give the young man an earful for upsetting his niece, visible sobered at the girl's words. He sighed and shook his head before stepping forward and extending a hand downward to Ada. "Come on, let's go home," he said, "Visiting hours are over, and Oz will be asleep for the rest of the night, so there's no reason to stay here at the moment." Gilbert didn't miss the pointed look Oscar shot in his direction as he spoke.

But a thought had just occurred to him, the excitement it encouraged overpowering the doubt that he should have felt.

"Can…" the dark-haired man began as he pushed himself to his feet after Oscar had wrapped a comforting arm around Ada and begun moving down the corridor towards the front door. He paused when Gilbert spoke, looking backwards, and the young man glanced awkwardly at Oz's door. "Can I… I mean, since he's asleep, can I-?"

"Gilbert," Oscar said sternly, his tone warning. Normally, Gilbert would shrink away when the man sounded like that, but he hardly felt that his request was unreasonable, so this time he stood his ground.

"Just for a minute," he said, "I just want to see him and then I'll go, I promise."

"I just don't think it's a good idea," Oscar replied, frowning when Gilbert visibly deflated. Not again...

"Uncle…" Gilbert heard Ada whisper, shaking her head softly when Oscar appeared as though he were about to protest further. He appeared conflicted when he looked down at her, but then he huffed and pointed over his shoulder with his spare hand.

"One minute, and this is the _only_ time," he said, "After this, you wait until the doctor says you can go in. Alright?"

"Of course, thank you," Gilbert breathed, relieved, turning around and gripping the door handle eagerly when the elder man merely turned his attention to Ada, giving her the keys to his car and telling her to go and wait for him. Gilbert didn't wait for the man to finish; he pushed the handle down, stepped into Oz's room, and moved as quickly and quietly as he could to his friend's bedside.

With the lights out, it was difficult to see Oz until he was rather close, the dim moonlight leaking through the partially drawn curtains settling a beam of light across the middle of Oz's bed, just barely illuminating the boy's features. It was enough for Gilbert, though… And in that single moment, every remnant of his usual mask that he had managed to recreate throughout the day instantly crumbled.

It was stupid… he couldn't have been apart from Oz for more than twenty-four hours, and yet the sight of his friend filled Gilbert with an overwhelming sense of relief, as if, subconsciously, he had been afraid the blonde would have disappeared since he had last set eyes on him. Maybe it was because they had been so suddenly separated, or perhaps it was just a lingering sense of fear from the last time. Maybe Gilbert was just an idiot for having such strong feelings about anything and everything that related to Oz.

Whatever the reason, he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders the moment his eyes found his friend's face, a smile forming on his lips and his hand reaching out to gently lay upon Oz's. _So warm_… He was always so warm, but now… It could have been Gilbert's imagination, but Oz already looked better, maybe even healthier, though he knew very little could have possibly changed in less than a day.

He was vaguely aware of another presence in the room – Oscar – but he found that he didn't care. Knowing that Oz's current condition meant his sleep was too deep to be easily disturbed, Gilbert gently slipped his hand beneath the blonde's and held it lightly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Part of him wanted Oz to wake up and see him, while another was relieved that he didn't.

He only had a minute… He had to explain… He had to apologize...

"Oz, I…" he whispered, but quickly closed his mouth, uncertain. It still felt strange… He still felt conscious about what he was saying and doing, but not because there was someone else in the room to witness his actions. If Oz could see him now, what would he say? '_It's not like I can hear you, stuuu-pid!'_ The words rung so clear in his mind, he wondered if the boy had said it to him before.

He cleared his throat and leaned down a little, keeping his voice low and still holding Oz's hand in his own. "Oz…" he started again, swallowing the lump in his throat, "I'm… I'm sorry I haven't been here. I know I said I would be by your side, but… The doctors say it would be best if we…" Uncertainty and guilt forced him to stop for a moment. He had promised… He said he would be by his side and would help him get through this, but now he couldn't do so without risking Oz's health. He breathed shakily, tightening his hold on the blonde's hand.

_If he squeezed it hard enough, maybe Oz would wake up._

His grip loosened a little, his body tensing, ready to run (t_o stay_), if the boy began to awaken… but he didn't. He did not know if what he felt was relief or disappointment. "It's for the best," he breathed, "but I... I'll still visit you. And the minute you're well enough, I'll be right back by your side in a heartbeat. I promise…" He nodded, as if the act would help convince his sleeping friend of his words, and again his grip tightened slightly around the blonde's hand. _Just a little tighter…_

"Gilbert, let's go."

It was a command, not a request… And as much as he wished he could, Gilbert was in no position to oppose Oscar's words, since he shouldn't have been in the room in the first place. "Alright…" he whispered, but he did not move right away, suddenly gripped by that same, irrational fear that this could be the last time he would ever see his friend. It actually took the elder Vessalius several minutes to convince him to release Oz's hand and leave the room, walking directly behind him to make sure that the Nightray would not change his mind and try to stay. Gilbert looked back over his shoulder as he made his way towards the door, his heart aching with a sense of longing with each step that took him further away from his friend. When the door suddenly closed, completely removing Oz from his line of sight, Gilbert felt as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach, breath catching in his throat at the abruptness of the act.

"Gilbert…"

"Sorry…" he muttered, turning his head so that he was facing forward, his back to Oscar. He blinked when he felt the man place a hand on top of his head, pushing down slightly on his dark locks in a short of play-shove before falling to his shoulder, with Oscar stepping forward so that his arm was around Gilbert's shoulder.

"You don't need to apologize," he said with an encouraging grin, "I know this isn't easy for you, and I really appreciate what you're doing for him."

Gilbert frowned, automatically falling into step when Oscar began to move forward with the young man by his side. "I'm not doing anything, though…" Which was why Gilbert felt so terrible right now…

"Not true," Oscar said, "You're giving him space and time to heal, which is exactly what he needs right now."

"I suppose…"

"Make sure you take care of yourself as well, alright?"

"I will…"

As the two men made their way down the corridor in silence, Oscar began to think about their current situation. It seemed that letting Gilbert in to see Oz may not have been a good idea… Then again, everything felt upside-down and wrong way round whenever Gilbert got like this. "_He's going back to how he was all those years ago," _he thought with a quick glance sideways, worried for Gilbert not only for his own sake, but for Oz, too.

The boy would be heartbroken if he knew how much Gilbert had changed after the accident… When the doctors couldn't help him, Oscar had hoped that Gilbert would just heal with time, that he would eventually lose some of his connection to Oz and be able to move on and live his own life. When he started working things appeared to improve, and slowly but surely, Gilbert had seemed to get better, to return to something that at least resembled his old self and begin to grow…

But that was all a front, one that was dropped in moments of weakness. The truth was that no matter how things looked on the outside, Gilbert had never moved on. No matter how happy he seemed with his life, the very fact that he had made it his priority to visit Oz on a daily basis was a sign that he was not content. In many ways, Gilbert was still a child, scared and lonely and certain that the entire world would fall apart if his best friend did not recover and return to his side.

And there was nothing they could do for him. He had stopped going to his sessions years ago, and he refused to take his medicine. His mood swings were less frequent, but Oscar was not naive; he knew that many of the days that Gilbert called in sick had simply been because he was incapable of pulling himself out of bed with the oppressive weight of depression on his mind. Oscar had suffered it himself for a time, back when he really thought he had lost his nephew, and he knew that there was very little anyone else could say or do that could pull someone out of their own darkness. He had pulled though, but Gilbert had never really escaped from it, because he had never faced his demons and accepted them for what they were.

Oz was the only one who could save Gilbert… If it were even possible at this point. Maybe the man was far too broken to ever fully recover, but if anyone could aid him in the process, Oz could, if only because he was the only one Gilbert would allow himself to be rescued by. There was no way that he was going to let the unstable Nightray near Oz until the young blonde was well enough to handle him, however. Oz had to focus on himself for now, not go out of his way for Gilbert like the elder Vessalius knew he would.

Gilbert did not return to the Vessalius household with them that night. Instead, he took the bus back to his street and went home to his apartment. He seemed to be in a better mood when they parted ways, but only because he had clearly made up his mind to continue coming to the hospital. Oscar tried to suggest that he reconsider, but he may as well have spoken to the wall for the effect it had on Gilbert.

"Do you think it's a bad idea?" Ada asked her uncle as the pair met in the kitchen for a late snack before going to bed. When Oscar gave her a questioning look she smiled, "Gilbert… You've been lost in thought since you came back."

That girl was far too perceptive; growing up with Oz and years of keeping an eye on Gilbert had probably caused that. He would have preferred to keep these concerns to himself, but since she had already figured out what was bothering him he figured he may as well speak up. "I don't know Ada," Oscar sighed as he poured himself a drink, "I just think that coming to the hospital is only going to make him worse."

"It could…" Ada nodded in agreement, cutting her sandwich and placing it on a plate before joining her uncle at the table, "but it would probably be a lot worse to keep him away."

"True…" Oscar ran a hand through his hair and turned his eyes to the ceiling, "So really, letting him come to visit is the better of two evils, right? Such a troublesome brat."

Ada smiled, "Being troublesome is what Gilbert and Big Brother do best."

The elder Vesslius laughed heartily and pet the young woman on the shoulder enthusiastically. "Never a truer word spoke!" he said.

One thing was certain; with Oz and Gilbert involved, there was no way things were going to go smoothly.

**O-O-O**

In many ways, nothing had changed since Oz woke up. Gilbert still rose at seven thirty, washed, ate, dressed, and went to work. He still worked his hardest in a job he hated, being the model employee he was when he actually turned up. He still managed to fall out with Eliot for one reason or another, still went to Reo to help him smooth things over with the boy, and still clocked out at five o' clock. He still thought about his friend throughout the day, more so now that he knew the boy was awake. He even had a few calls from Alice, and managed to hold a somewhat decent conversation with her for a grand total of two minutes before the pair were almost screaming down their phones at one another. Even those had not changed, though they were a little more frequent now.

Most importantly of all, he still visited the hospital every day, despite Oscar's advice that he try to distance himself a little. Oscar's, and everyone else's.

He knew they were just trying to help… But the last time they thought they were 'helping' him, he had ended up _there_… So he refused to stop. No matter how much it hurt to be there, it was nothing compared to the pain of _not_ being there.

For the first few days Oz could hardly stay conscious for more than a few minutes, and even after he was able to stay awake all day, the number of hours he slept at night were long. He was so weak that just lifting his own arms was a struggle at first, but over the weeks he slowly began to gather enough strength to move around a little, though it was not very much.

The worst part, however, had been Oz's inability to communicate with the people around him. He was too weak to express himself by gesturing, and forming words correctly was next to impossible (apparently, it had been impressive that he had managed to say Gilbert's name). Gilbert knew that the boy's speech therapy sessions only made him feel self conscious and embarrassed, his frustration clear in the almost nonsensical sounds that left his mouth when he tried to speak. He normally just fell silent and refused to talk, choosing to practice when he was on his own, humming to himself for several minutes before trying to form words with his disobedient tongue. He worked hard, but it was mainly when he was alone, a determination to regain some of his battered pride making him silent when he was in company with others. It was sad to hear the once enthusiastic and infatuating voice of his best friend reduced to mere sounds and murmurs, but it was also fascinating to listen to the boy refine it, slowly returning his vocals to their former glory.

The days dragged on forever, any yet, without Gilbert noticing, they had formed into weeks. He hated being stuck on the outside after he had spent so many years with Oz… Oscar never scolded him when he left his nephew and found Gilbert sitting on the floor next to the door, or met him in the waiting room or hallway on his way to visit his nephew. He would just chat to him, ask him how work was, and then tell him that Oz was getting better quickly, and that he wouldn't have to wait much longer. "Soon, Gilbert," he would say, "We'll tell him soon."

That sounded great… the first hundred times the man said it. Now, after several weeks, the words just made Gil angry. _Soon_? When was soon?

One night, when Gilbert had worked late and so had been forced to wait until nightime to visit, he heard Oz speak.

"Sthe… Shh… She… s… se-ll-s… s-sea sh-hells on da… th… _the_ sssea… sh-shore."

Oz's pleased hum felt like such a humble celebration for what Gilbert felt was a huge achievement. He wanted to run in and praise Oz for muscling his way through the tongue twister, to ask him to do it again, to encourage him and tell him that he would be speaking normally in no time. Instead, he raced down the hall and into the waiting room, where he pulled out his cell phone and called Oscar to tell him. The man was pleased, but not enough so. Oz was talking! It was difficult, it was awkward-sounding, but he was still doing it. Wasn't it amazing? Why wasn't he cheering? Ada appeared far more understanding, taking the phone from her uncle and echoing Gilbert's thoughts that this was a sign that he would be back to his old self in no time.

Gilbert hadn't been able to go back to Oz's room that night, but the next day, he heard Oz practicing harder than ever, though he never spoke when his uncle was around. He simply smiled and nodded or shook his head when the man spoke to him, and made various humming noises to express his feelings. Had he not heard Oz speaking constantly whenever he was alone, he would have wondered if Oscar was right to ask him if he had really heard Oz talking. Why was the boy hiding it?

He happened to be there the day it happened; the day that Oscar accidentally knocked his briefcase off the spare chair, sending it's contends scattering across the floor. With a loud but none to genuine sigh of irritation the man had rose from his seat in order to gather his things, but was frozen in place by the sound of his nephew's slightly awkward but undeniably teasing voice.

"Pft, Uncle, you're getting clum-sy in your old age."

Gilbert had to cover his mouth to prevent himself from laughing in the stunned silence that followed, wishing he could see the look on Oscar's face, or the grin that his friend was undeniably wearing. "You little brat!" he heard Oscar exclaim with a bark of laughter, "I ought to string you up for that! How long have you been keeping this from me?"

"I w… wanted to make shure I could talk," Oz said a little awkwardly, making an irritated noise that Gilbert expected was directed at the slight lisp he appeared to have acquired, "I need more work…"

"This is fantastic, Oz!" Oscar exclaimed, "I had no idea you were progressing this quickly… At this rate, you'll be back to normal in no time."

"U-Uncle," Oz stuttered in a quiet, embarrassed voice, "you don't h-ave to-"

"An uncle can hug his nephew, can't he?" Oscar laughed, to which Oz merely responded with an awkward mumble, silenced when the elder Vessalius told him that he was extremely proud of him for working hard and accomplishing so much. Oz never was very good at taking complements like that; he always got embarrassed.

"Told you," Gilbert whispered when Oscar stepped out into the hallway later.

"That you did," Oscar responded in an equally quiet manor, grinning at the young Nightray and patting him heavily on the shoulder. "I shouldn't have doubted you, Gil."

Those words hung in the air between the two men for a moment, polluting the previously glimmering atmosphere with shadows of the past. Resentment, guilt, and shame all alighted in a moment, before a forced smile aided in their banishment.

"With the way he was hiding it, I would have had trouble believing it, too," Gilbert said, chuckling quietly, "He's such a brat…" An insult by definition, but he spoke it with fondness and a tenderness in his voice that he sometimes forgot he had. He really hadn't changed… In line with Gilbert's deepest wishes, Oz had remained Oz throughout this entire ordeal. His pride that made him work hard and progress quickly, his impish nature that caused him to tease and taunt and scheme with what should have been a sensitive subject, his unusual shyness when shown real affection and encouragement… It was all just so… _Oz_.

Oscar did not say the words, and Gilbert knew it was because he didn't want to get the Nightray's hopes up, but they shone so clearly before him that his silence hardly mattered. And this time, they actually appeared to hold some promise, empowered by the sound of Oz's voice, and the confirmation that he was still the boy that Gilbert had grown to love.

"_Soon, Oz…"_ Gilbert thought, _"I'll see you again soon…"_

**O-O-O**

"_Bleh…"_ Oz made a face, resting his wrist on the edge of his tray and lightly poking his 'food' with his index finger, sticking out his tongue when the wet texture met his skin. _"I miss solids… Hell, I almost miss the feeding tube!" _

As far as Oz was concerned,_ y_ou should _not_ be able to eat meat through a straw; it was just weird. Maybe Alice would like it… that girl was the single most perfect example of a carnivore. _"If she thought that you could drink meat as well as eat it, she'd pass out from the endorphin overload,"_ he thought with a smile before sighing and reaching for his spoon. He'd promised the cute nurse he would eat it all, and though he had originally thought the idea of a pretty girl feeding him was pretty much heaven incarnate, it had lost its appeal after the first few times. Now it just made him feel even more useless than he usually did these days, so he would just have to suck it up and eat… or drink. Whatever. _"I'd kill for a double cheese burger... And I don't even like them!"_

At least it kept him distracted for a few minutes, and it wasn't those annoying muscle exercises he had to do every day. He glanced sideways at the small dumbbells that one of the nurses had left on his bedside table, narrowing his eyes and trying to force as much loathing he could into that steady glare. It really annoyed him that lifting those little things made him tired, but it was the only way he was going to get better, so he just grit his teeth did his exercises as often as he could. It didn't mean he didn't hate those dumbbells with all his being. He let them know it, too. He'd called them _so_ many colorful names in the past few weeks, especially when he pulled a muscle or something.

He should probably do a little exercise… but he _really_ didn't want to. Not at this very minute, at least. He needed to spread his activities out a bit today; Oscar had told him the day before that he had a meeting and probably wouldn't be able to visit, though he would try to see him later that night if he could. Oz understood, of course, but he was dreading spending an entire day alone. It wouldn't have been so bad if he had some games or books or something, but all he had was a deck of cards to mess around with. Even the doctors and nurses spent as little time as possible with him, rushing in just to give him a check up before disappearing in a flash. So… He really had nothing to do but play cards, look out the window, or admire the ever-so-exciting hospital décor.

"_Card's it is, then," _he decided, lifting his oh-so-delicious dinner to his mouth, making yet another face as the weird, mushy texture slid down his throat. It wasn't like he had anything better to do… Except maybe heckle the doctors into telling him what was really going on around here. Really, they must have thought he was born yesterday if they truly believed he had not noticed all the little oddities that ran his new, rather boring lifestyle (Granted, he had the mobility of an infant and his speech wasn't much better until recently, but still!).

He didn't want to think about that right now, though… He'd already lost way too much sleep by letting his mind think about the reasons behind his enforced solitude, or the way the sun rose too late and set too early for it to be summer, or the fact that he had no television, or magazines, or newspapers, or why the nurses and doctors kept lying to him and avoiding him and-

No.

No, right now, he wanted to time himself and see just how quickly he could finish a game of Solitaire.

He just wanted to keep himself busy, at least until he was tired enough to take a nap.

_Until he was too tired to think._

He didn't like Solitaire, really, but it was just about the only single-person card game he knew. He reached for the deck on the nightstand beside his bed, frowning when his arm appeared to lock in place before it aligned with his shoulders. He grit his teeth and forced it further back and outward at the same time, gripping the deck as best he could with his temperamental fingers. He managed to pick it up and pull it towards himself, but at the last second his hand twitched involuntarily and he dropped the cards on the bed.

He slammed his hand down to prevent them from sliding off the side, but not quick enough.

"Damn it…" Oz muttered under his breath, tilting his body slightly to look down over the side of his bed at the cards that had slipped from his grasp. Stupid body… Why didn't it-

… He really didn't want to get angry right now - he didn't have the strength for it – so he focused on the cards instead. The bed was not raised that high… Glancing at the length of his arm and then back at the floor, he concluded that, if he lay down, he could probably reach them. However, he hadn't been able to get his legs to move very much since he woke up, and his body, though growing in strength, was still quite weak. He could fall off the bed, and as harmless as that sounded, he knew that he shouldn't risk it in his current condition.

"_I guess I'll just have to wait for someone to show up and ask them to…" _He didn't even want to finish that thought… He felt useless enough as it was._ "Now I've gotta build those stupid card houses… Great…"_

He sighed heavily, sinking back into his pillow and allowing his eyes to slide closed, fingers wrapping around the remaining cards in his hands and squeezing them weakly. He really wished he had the strength to bend them or something, just to show them how annoyed he was.

This was going to be a _long_ day…

**O-O-O**

"_I can't believe it's already been a month…"_ Gilbert thought to himself as he pushed his coins through the slot of the coffee machine, frowning when several were rejected and stopping just short of hitting the machine in annoyance. He was so tired… He had been forced to take work home and spent half the night going through files and forms he knew next to nothing about, stamping and folding and yawning at the tedious workload. On the bright side, he had been allowed to go home half day, apparently too much off a zombie to be of any real use on the phones or at the front desk, so he had decided to make his daily visit to Oz on his way home.

He began to reinsert the coins, continuing to do so until the machine took them all, quietly pondering on his friend's condition. _"The time has flown, but I still can't believe how quickly he's progressed."_ Did that mean it would soon be time to tell Oz everything? He hoped so… All this waiting was driving him crazy, and he hated that everyone was lying to his best friend. More than once he had considered barging into Oz's room and telling him everything, but he had managed to restrain himself. _"There's no way they'd let me near him if I did that…" _he thought with a sigh, reaching up to press the button for black coffee.

"Well, well, well…. Is that _Raven_ I see?"

Gilbert's entire form stiffened, his finger hovering just a hair breadth from the button, at the sound of the all too familiar voice behind him. Before he had even turned to face the man he had released an irritated groan and set a frown to match upon his lips, glaring over his shoulder at the silver-haired weirdo grinning and waving at him from just a few feet away. "Xerxes Break…" he grumbled. Suddenly, he really didn't need that coffee anymore.

"Charming as ever, aren't we Gilbert?" Break said with a smile, one that instantly conjured up images of a clown… a clown from some sort of freaky horror movie. It wasn't difficult to see why Alice had instantly taken to calling him just that – 'Clown' – especially when he spent quite a lot of his time performing old-fashioned and often startling magic tricks just to scare them. "Visiting Oz today, are you? Ah," he chuckled and crossed his arms, "but wait… I believe Oscar mentioned that you aren't supposed to go anywhere near him, am I correct?"

Gilbert's mouth dropped open at the man's words. That nosey little-! "That's none of your business," he stated, turning around and pressing the button to receive his coffee, focusing on the dark liquid that flowed from the machine rather than the man behind him. Maybe if he ignored him, he'd just go away… Wait, what was he thinking? This was _Xerxes Break_; if he decided he wanted to stick around, all the forces of nature couldn't move him. "I'm… I'm not actually seeing him," he said quietly without turning around, "I just…"

"I know," Break said, stepping up next to Gilbert and tossing a lazy arm around the taller man's shoulder, "Oscar explained everything to me."

"Then why did you ask?" Gilbert snapped, shrugging the man's arm off his shoulder before snatching his coffee and making his way down the corridor, knowing full well that Break was going to follow him. That man… He may have helped him in the past, but he had always been an insufferable idiot, the only person who could really make Gilbert angry (normally brought about by the man's mere presence). Though... He didn't feel _entirely_ annoyed by the sight of the red-eyed man. He would never admit it out loud, but he… hadn't exactly been happy when Break had stopped visiting. How long had it been since they'd seen each other? "What are you doing here?"

It was almost a relief to turn around and see Break walking behind him, idly swinging his arms and watching the ends of his sleeves flop back and forth. Really… why did he always buy jackets that were too long for him? Did he like swimming around in his own clothes, or did he just have short arms? When spoken to he merely hummed and brought his hands up, flicking his wrists back and forth so that the cuffs of his sleeves flapped against Gilbert's face, making the man stumble backwards with a startled cry, accidentally spilling coffee on his hand.

"Break!" he exclaimed, cursing as he placed the coffee down on a window ledge and shook the droplets of boiling liquid from his hand.

"Oh my, that's going to leave a mark," Break said in a false tone of concern, grinning. Grinning? Oh right, this guy was some sort of sadist, he'd almost forgot. "Silly little Raven~!"

Gilbert, still shaking his hand, looked up at Break when he sang that all too familiar name. Raven? He hadn't heard that name in a while… And he still didn't like it. "Don't call me that," he said as he reached for his coffee, only to have it snatched away at the last second by the very man that had forced it to release it in the first place. "Hey!"

"I'm here because Liam went and got himself cut by a poorly-stored knife," Break said, ignoring Gilbert's discontent and continuing down the corridor without him, "Silly man almost lost a toe. Honestly, everyone I know is an idiot." He took a sip of coffee, but instantly spat the contents back in the cup and made a face. "Ugh, disgusting stuff," he said, holding the beverage out to Gilbert, who was staring at him with a look of disbelief, "Here, you can have it."

"I don't want it now!"

"Why?" How could he pull off that genuine confused look so easily?

"Because you spat in it!"

"No I didn't."

"You-!" Gilbert started, but one look at that smug expression on Xerxes' face and he was reminded that any fight with Break was completely pointless, because the man before him always won simply because he was too stubborn to admit otherwise. With a huff he stormed past Break towards Oz's room, "Just go back to Liam, I'm busy."

Break, apparently undeterred, spilled the contents of Gilbert's drink into a potted plant before following him. "Oh, I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't want to talk to me," he stated nonchalantly, waving his hand in a dismissive manner.

Gilbert did not slow his pace, but he looked back over his shoulder, "The knife was your fault, wasn't it?"

"Now Gilbert, there is no sense in pointing fingers at anyone. It was a terrible accident and Liam will just have to live with a few stitches."

"I'm so glad I don't work with you anymore…" Gilbert sighed, turning down the hallway that led to Oz's room. Poor Liam… Apparently it was, quite literally, a health hazard to be in the same workspace as Break. Still, Gilbert knew the man well enough to know he was probably feeling rather guilty and had probably done something to make up for it already… Whatever that was.

"Aww, my feelings are hurt," Break said, reaching forward and flicking Gilbert's ear hard… Or, pulling a lollipop out of it, apparently. That man and his magic tricks… And his candy obsession was even worse! "Want one? It's your favorite~!" Gilbert was more than a little surprised when he realized that it was.

He stopped in his tracks before room 110, suddenly aware of just how close they were to Oz's room. Break had followed him all the way there… Now what was he supposed to do? He didn't want the man there… He would look like such a weirdo just hanging around outside Oz's room. Granted, it probably looked strange to everyone that passed, but he didn't really care since none of them really knew him. Break, though… "No thanks," he said, turning around to face the elder man, "Um, Break, maybe you really should get back to Liam…"

Break pouted. He _actually_ pouted. And it was so, _so_ creepy. "We don't see each other for months, and after only five minutes you want to get rid of me? Oh, if Emily were here she would tell you how rude you were being."

Gilbert shivered at the thoughts of that creepy, blue-skinned doll. Ugh... _Emily_… That thing gave him nightmares. "Look, I just think we should-" he started a little awkwardly, before Break threw his arms in the air with an overdramatic sigh.

"Raven has simply no idea just how boring he is. How sad…" the red-eyed man drawled, spinning around and twirling the pop he had previously offered Gilbert in his right hand like a tiny baton. "I suppose I should go back and check on Liam, make sure he hasn't impaled himself with a scalpel or something."

"Good idea," Gilbert said, a little too quickly.

"I'll be off then," Break chirped, turning around and taking several steps forward until he was standing directly in front of Gilbert. He waited for a few seconds until the man started to feel uncomfortable, before reaching up and tapping the lollipop off the end of Gil's nose, grinning, "Say hello to your boyfriend for me~!"

Gilbert froze.

His… what?

"Wh-what?" Gilbert stuttered, his face instantly warming, even more so when he spotted the knowing grin on the elder man's face. "H-He's not my boyfrrmph-!" He was silenced when the pop Break had been holding was shoved into his mouth, causing him to stumble back and cough heavily, though he automatically bit down on the piece of candy and held it in place.

Break was already halfway down the hallway by the time Gilbert had forced he watering eyes open to search for him, laughing at the Nightray's embarrassment. With one last wave of his floppy sleeve-encased arm he yelled a joyous, 'Enjoy your date, you adorable little lovebirds~!' before disappearing from sight, leaving a confused and rather flustered Gilbert in his wake.

He knew Gilbert was here to visit Oz… And he had called Oz his…

Gilbert's heart thudded hard, a new wave of warmth washing over his quickly reddening skin. "_That's not… We're not… It's not like Oz would ever… or that I would ever…"_ He gripped the edge of the lollipop and bit down hard on the treat, instantly breaking it, and munched on the remains quickly, hoping the loud crunching would drown out his thoughts.

Thoughts that he had been successfully ignoring lately… Unleashed, now, by a simple comment from Xerxes Break.

He scowled down the hallway, in the direction the man had travelled, wishing that idiot hadn't ruined his coffee or upset his day or given him candy when he was trying to lose a few pounds or said something stupid and embarrassing that he really should have just ignored because now Break was going to tease him even more and-

"Break…" he growled, bringing a hand up and pinching the bridge of his nose in hopes of quelling the headache that he knew would come, just like it always did when he had a run-in with the red-eyed man. He was such a pain.

And yet… he could not stop himself from smiling as he shook he head and walked the short distance down to Oz's room, leaning against the wall just right of the boy's door. It was silent inside, which meant that Oz was either sleeping, reading, or playing something quietly.

Half an hour, and then he would go home. Same as always.

"Boyfriend…" he muttered, scoffing lightly before he returned to idly chewing on the lollipop stick, staring at the ceiling and listening for any signs of life within his dear friend's room. "As if…"

Break was such an idiot.

**O-O-O**

"If you don't stay up, I will t… tear you."

Could paper be threatened? Apparently not, because the moment he spoke those words the two cards he had been trying to make stand in place slipped and landed face down on the table, and it took all Oz's patience not to grab them and make good on his threat. The stupid table attached to his bed shook at the tiniest movement and knocked any progress he managed to make on his little card tower project (which hardly went past two or three small, triangular 'houses'). Not only that, it was extremely tedious, Oz was already annoyed, and he was also very, very bored.

His eyes slid to the side of the bed again, where four little runaway cards lay an an almost perfect line along the floor. Taunting him, you see, trying to make him angrier. They were doing a good job… He _needed _those cards. He had to do something to pass the time, and at least Solitaire would make him think a little.

He knew he shouldn't. Somewhere, in a more calm, sensible part of his brain, Oz knew it was a stupid idea, and that he would regret it later if things went wrong. But that lovely quiet place in his mind was hard do find among all the pent of frustration and confusion that he had been keeping tightly locked inside for several weeks. He was starting to worry again. He was starting to think about Gilbert again, and the way Oscar avoided talking about him. Or anything. Or how the doctors refused to tell him-

He _needed_ those cards. Right. Now.

With quite an amount of effort, he managed to slide down the bed and roll over so that his left arm hung over the side of the bed, his hand hovering just inches above the lost cards. He shifted a little more so that he could peek over the edge of the mattress and see what he was doing, but they were just out of reach… If he slid a little more off the bed he could probably touch them… He did just that, but they were still just the tiniest bit out of reach. His right hand gripped the sheets – that voice from the lovely quiet place that he purposefully ignored telling him that wouldn't be enough to hold him – and reached, gritting his teeth when he felt that annoying tension in his muscles again.

But suddenly, the cards were getting a lot closer, very quickly.

**O-O-O**

"Ack!"

The sound of Oz's voice startled Gilbert, who had just pushed himself away from the wall, intent on heading home and getting some sleep. He stopped in his tracks, his heart frozen in his chest, ears deaf to all else except the sounds from Oz's room. The boy had yelled, after which a loud clatter and short yelp had sounded.

Hurt.

Was Oz hurt?

Where were… Gilbert looked up and down the corridor, but he saw neither a doctor nor a nurse in sight. But… Oz could be hurt! Where were they?

He couldn't go in… He wasn't allowed to. If Oz was not ready, and if he figured out who Gilbert was, he could relapse. If he went in there now, he could hurt his friend. He didn't want that. He could never-

Oz groaned in pain, and suddenly all other concerns seemed to disappear in a flash.

Before he was even aware of what he was doing, Gilbert had thrown open the door to Oz's room and stepped inside.

**O-O-O**

**To Be Continued**

**O-O-O**


	5. Chapter 4

I am so sorry everyone! I really don't know what happened; _Loyalty_ kept trying to go dark so I decided to work on this, but somehow the weeks flew by without me noticing :S Sorry for the delay :(

Here's a ridiculously short chapter that really should have been the end of the last one, but it was already too long as it was. It was actually a lot longer, but the detail sort of took from the fact this is all supposed to happen in just a few minutes, so… It's not written as nicely, but it's closer to real time :) I'm working on the next chapter right now! (It will also be short, but up far quicker than this one ^_^;)

Once again, thank you soooo much to everyone who reviewed! **Mrs Twisted, doglovergirl77, captivated fairy, Coolyb, Elyona-chan, mistfur, bryella, GilbertNiteRay, YukoSama, WendigoGirl, YakuKikyo, Suiseiseki, Suimomo, saphirablossom, Orcux, **and** Princess Himeko**, you are all absolutely amazing and deserve a much better and quicker author than me. I shall try to make up for it with a faster update on the next chapter! (And I'll try to make the story better… feel free to suggest ways to do that :))

And to everyone who reads this story anon, also; thank you for your interest! ^_^

Now, on with the story~ :)

**O-O-O**

**Chapter 4**

**O-O-O**

_When they were younger, Gilbert had said something really, really stupid._

_Of course, the dark-haired boy didn't see it that way. He honestly seemed to believe the nonsense that fell from his mouth, words like 'I promise', 'forever' and 'always'. Those were quite idealistic terms for someone so harshly scarred by the world, and yet he uttered them without hesitance. Was he really so ignorant? Perhaps he was just in denial of the truth._

_He was such a fool. Those things did not exist, because nothing in the world ever stayed the same, and if everything changed then nothing was absolute._

_So promising to stay by Oz's side forever was… pointless. No matter how much he cared for the boy, or how painful the thought of them no longer speaking was, Oz knew that, one day, they would go their separate ways. Gilbert would leave him, because that was how the world worked. It was better if he just accepted reality and not let himself get too attached to anything or anyone._

_But Gil… He was determined to prove Oz wrong. He claimed that, because they were friends with one another during the darkest times of each other's lives, then further hardship was not going to damage their relationship. It made sense, in a strange, somewhat disturbing way. Something created in darkness was resistant to darkness, at the very least._

_Still…_

_ "I don't believe that anything is absolute. Besides, we can hardly be together forever when we'll be dead in a few decades. I may be mistaken, but I'm pretty sure that's a lot shorter than 'forever', right?"_

_"Oz…"_

_"It's true."_

_"…."_

_"…"_

_"You have a point… We can't live forever."_

_"See? Told you-"_

_"But that doesn't change a thing."_

_"Huh?"_

_"We don't know what will happen after we die… but… I can still promise you one thing for certain."_

_"…"_

_" I'll stay with you for my forever…"_

_"What?"_

_"_My_ forever. For as long as I live, I'll stay by your side. As long as I am still breathing, I will be there for you."_

_"…"_

_"I will never leave you… I'll never lie to you, or let anyone hurt you… No matter what."_

_"…"_

_"I promise."_

_"Y-You're such a girl, Gil..."_

_"Heh…"_

_Oz refused to believe in such things. Gilbert was just a kid, basking in the final rays of childish ignorance. He would grow up one day, and realize just how silly he had been._

_And yet… as the days turned into weeks, then months, then years, Gilbert remained steadfast in his belief that he and Oz would never be separated. He never said the words out loud, but there was never any need to. The meaning was clear in the things he did, in the way he continued to stay by Oz's side despite the trouble the blonde would always get him into, or the way he came by every morning, without fail, to walk with Oz to school. Oz could see it in the way Gil lit up at the thought of staying in his company just a little bit longer than expected, or the way he would sneak downstairs and silently return with a mug of hot chocolate for Oz when the blonde was feeling down._

_It was strange… Gilbert hadn't spoken those words because he believed he himself was strong enough to fulfill such a big promise. He didn't say them just to cheer the Vessalius up. He didn't say them because he felt he had to._

_No… Gilbert said these things because he believed them. As sure as the sky was blue and world was round, the thought of being by Oz's side forever was completely natural to him._

_Maybe it was that silent confidence that had caused it… Because somewhere along the way, Oz had started to believe in Gilbert's promise, too._

_He just never realized it._

**O-O-O**

Gilbert knew he shouldn't be there. He knew that just by being in the room, he was putting Oz in danger. He hadn't been told just how long he had been asleep for, and if he figured it out just by looking at his best friend, now ten years older than the blonde remembered him, the shock could overwhelm his mind and, in turn, his still weakened body. It could cause a relapse. He could fall back into a coma, and it could be hours, days, or even months before he woke up again.

He knew all of this, and yet… The sight of Oz lying on the hospital floor, groaning in pain and blinking blearily at the ceiling, awakened something else inside Gilbert. It was an urge to protect that wiped his mind clear of all other concerns, reducing his thoughts to one, simple fact: Oz was hurt, and Gilbert had to help him.

And it was that sole thought that pushed the Nightray forward.

_"What… happened…?" _Oz thought to himself, trying to keep his eyes open, his entire body feeling numb and heavy. He could just about make out some noises in the distance, fading in and out of focus in a similar manor to his vision and other senses, almost as if his ears had been stuffed with cotton.

Let's see… He had fallen off the bed and tried to use the arm that had been reaching for the cards to prevent himself from crashing face-first into the hard, marble floor… But his arm was so weak that he had only been able to redirect himself slightly, falling sideways so that he landed hard on his shoulder. The momentum from the fall had caused him to crack the side of his head hard on the ground before he rolled onto his back.

Ah… that explained why he felt so weird.

He could hear something… A voice… His head was spinning so much he could barely register it.

_"Hey! … You…. lright?"_

Wha…? What were they trying to say?

As the young Vessallius tried to gather himself, there was suddenly a strange, black blur floating just within his otherwise pristine white line of vision. It was moving, hovering in front of him, pulling away, then returning again. Just looking at it made him feel nauseous, so the blonde closed his eyes and groaned. He wasn't exactly in pain, but he felt… weird…

Something touched his shoulder, then his back, before an unfamiliar warmth engulfed him. It took Oz a moment to register that the blur was a person, and that they were trying to move him by gathering him into their arms. Long arms belonging to a person far larger than he was, it would seem, because the next thing he knew he had been swept up off the floor, his left side pressed against something warm – another person – and his body in a slightly curled up position. Was it…?

_"You're okay…" _The voice whispered in his ear. A man's voice.

But… It wasn't Uncle Oscar… So who…?

"You're not badly hurt, are you?" The man asked, and there was something strangely familiar about the tone in his voice.

Unable to make his mouth move properly, Oz hummed in a negative tone and tried in vain to shake his head. Feeling was coming back to his fingertips and, unfortunately, his aching skull, which pounded and protested as a result of its earlier acquaintance with the hospital floor. He almost wished he had remained numb, however, because with the pain came a sudden wave of darkness that appeared to dim every one of his senses. Suddenly, he was lying on his back, vaguely aware of the feeling of something sliding out from beneath his shoulders and legs. His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head slightly in an attempt to find the face of the person who had come to his aid, curious beyond reason as to who had suddenly appeared to help him.

Something was… It wasn't just his voice. It was his presence, too… There was something strange about him…

Oz hadn't expected to find the man's face just inches from his own, focused on removing his arms from beneath the boy's body. Oz blinked as his foggy vision slowly began to lift, and he was able to make out details… Vague details, becoming sharper by the moment… Like the color of his hair – a dark, silky black – and the paleness of his skin… The concentration in his expression, and his brilliant, golden eyes…

...

… Golden…?

Oz's heart skipped a beat, his weak right hand reaching out and lightly gripping the sleeve of the person's arm as it slowly retreated from his side.

He… was that…?

"G… Gil…?"

Gilbert froze at the sound of his own name being whispered by the boy before him, eyes locked on the thin, fragile fingers that gently gripped the cuff of his sleeve. He had intended to return Oz to bed quickly and retreat before the Vessalius' sluggish mind caught up with what was happening around him, but…

The Nightray looked at Oz's face, conflicting feelings of joy, hope and terror tearing at his heart every which way as his gaze met hazy, confused green eyes. Oz… recognized him? Really? But… was that bad? What would happen if… But then he…!

His spirit was instantly dampened when awareness returned to Oz's eyes, replacing the strange, eager warmth within with cool realization.

_"You've grown up since then, Gil. That's why he doesn't recognize you…"_

The elder's heart ached.

But the blonde did not let go.

"Wha…?" Oz breathed, appearing completely bewildered. "You... are…" His voice was a lot quieter than he intended it to be, and his eyelids felt very heavy. Why couldn't he...? And this man… his eyes… stunning, golden eyes that Oz had be certain only_ he_ possessed…

No… What was he thinking? This man wasn't Gil… Gil was only a child, like he was…

The stranger's hand came up to rest on his, trying to remove it gently from where it held his sleeve. Oz's grip, weak as it was, tightened. He didn't want to let go. Something wasn't right.

He wasn't Gilbert… and yet… Why did it feel as if…?

The man gently tugged, and Oz lost his grip, but surprised both himself and the dark-haired adult before him by quickly snatching the fabric between his trembling fingers again. In that same moment, a sudden thought occurred to him, causing the blonde's breath to catch in his throat and his heart to twist sharply in his chest.

This man… He looked like… or maybe the truth was…

Could it be?

Gilbert didn't know what to do; the more rational side of his mind was screaming at him to leave, and yet his body remained in place, completely unmoving. He and Oz were staring at one another – he didn't even remember meeting the boy's gaze - and he could almost see the wheels and cogs inside the blonde's mind turning as he slowly began to figure out what was really going on.

This wasn't good… He shouldn't have come in here. Oz wasn't better at all. He could barely tell left from right. He wasn't ready for the truth, and Gilbert hadn't-

"Gil…?" Oz whispered again, his hazy eyes begging the man above him for answers.

Gilbert's hand twisted and slipped into the one that had been previously clutching at his sleeve, squeezing the appendage tightly in his own.

And Oz was certain that his heart physically stopped beating, eyes widening as confirmation of his thoughts was granted by the silence and intense gaze of the man before him.

No… This… Couldn't be real… Gilbert was a child… He was fourteen… He wasn't… He _couldn't_…

He knew the doctors had lied but… Weeks…? Months…?

… _Years_?

A second hand rose shakily from Oz's side, and Gilbert reached across and held it in his free left hand, eye contact with his best friend never breaking. The simmering panic in Oz's emerald irises was growing more and more frantic by the second, confused and fearful like the eyes of a small child in a thunder storm.

Gilbert didn't even know what he was feeling anymore, because he was so completely absorbed in Oz's emotions. Scared. Oz was scared. "It's okay…" The words came unwillingly, forced out by his desire to comfort, his grip tightening on his friend's hands. Fear almost flickered from existence, replaced by a cautious curiosity.

_It was okay… Oz knew, and it was okay… because Oz was strong…_

"You…" the Vessalius's tired eyes closed for a moment, before he forced them open once again, "You're really…?"

"Yes," Gilbert answered without hesitance, unable to stop himself from smiling (_Oz knew… Oz knew!_). He leaned a little closer and held Oz's hands against his chest, pleasant emotions blooming within at the blonde's indirect touch. To be this close to him… To be able to touch him, and speak to him, after all this time... "It's me…"

"G-il…" Oz breathed out heavily, blinking hard, and Gilbert felt his lips fall into a frown. Oz's voice was so light it no longer sounded like his own, far more akin to the whisper of the wind through the trees. His eyes were unfocussed, also, completely unseeing.

"Oz?"

"Heh…" a ghost of a smile crossed the blonde's face, his eyes blind, wandering aimlessly to the ceiling while his hands hung loosely in Gil's grip. "M… _M_…"

And then Oz's eyes closed, and his entire body fell limp.

Gilbert felt his very bones turn to ice, and for a moment he simply stared, waiting for Oz to open his eyes again.

He didn't.

"Oz? Oz!"

**O-O-O**

**To Be Continued**

**O-O-O**


	6. Chapter 5

Finally! Here it is, Chapter 5 :) It would have been up faster, but I decided to read up a bit on more medical things… Partly because I hate just putting things in my stories without understanding them at least a little, and partly because I was just curious about it myself ^_^;

Anyway, I'm afraid it's not a great one… Sorry! :S Putting Gil's emotions into words was tough, since depression is impossible for most people to understand. This is the best I can do, so I hope the general feel is right. I've rewritten it so much it just doesn't register with me anymore ^_^;

But I digress!

A huge thank you once again to everyone who took the time to review this story!** Mizuki hikari,** **14thEternityNightMare,** **Saphirablossom, Yuki Free, WhiteGamma, YukoSama, Sapphire Anime Bubble, pureheartedromance, YakuKikyo, Suimomo, Mrs Twisted, Lyziebell, milktune, Zeprithy, Orcux, **and** TotalAlias**, your support means a lot, and it's great to hear from you and know you like the story ^_^ Thank you! You guys really inspire me to keep writing! :)

Also, I think I'll need to start a music folder for this fanfic too. I found a song called 'Times' (by Tenth Avenue North) on Youtube last week, and it's just too perfect :)

Now, on with the chapter! ^_^

**O-O-O**

**Chapter 5**

**O-O-O**

Gilbert had heard that sometimes, when terrible things happened to them, people laughed. They did it to protect themselves; almost against their will a chuckle would bubble up from their chest, overpowering the horrifying feelings that had begun to mount within. Their panic would become a little less blinding, their fear a little less crippling. He could see the logic behind it; mentally, physically and emotionally, it helped. If only to deny the horrors of reality for a few brief moments, or to help someone think with a clearer head, then laughing in the face of fear was a good thing.

He understood it, and yet Gilbert had never once laughed when he should have cried. He had smiled through the pain, but that had been for the people around him. He never felt any better for it. He never denied himself the right to feel hurt when the world became a dark and horrible place.

Until now.

"H-Hey," he whispered quietly, a soft, nervous chuckle escaping him in a single, shaky breath as he placed Oz's limp hands back on the bed. His raised his right hand to hold the boy's face, laying the left on his shoulder and shaking him gently. "C-come on, Oz. Stop playing around."

Oz… Silly Oz. He was always pulling these horrible pranks. He just loved scaring Gilbert. Pretending to pass out right after he'd figured out who Gil really was… Wasn't that was going a little too far? Then again, Oz had never had that many boundaries when it came to teasing his best friend.

The Nightray laughed quietly, the smile on his face so difficult to hold it was painful, and shook his head. "Open your eyes, Oz…" he coaxed, taping the blonde's cheek lightly and biting his lip when there was no response. "This isn't funny anymore." His gaze flit from the boy's concealed eyes, to his slightly parted lips, to his body, and then back to his face again. "O.. Oz?"

No movement. None at all, save the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Why? Why wasn't he moving? Why wouldn't he stop the game?

_Gilbert turned his aching body so that his eyes could find Oz, insides twisting sharply and a horrified whimper escaping him at the sight of his best friend, pale, silent and unmoving, with blood pouring from his body. So much blood…. So… much…_

"No… No, no, no…" Gilbert whispered desperately, shaking his head, his heart aching as it rose and fell in response to his conflicting emotions. Part of his mind still held tight to the belief that Oz was only trying to trick him, while the other began to panic as nightmare and reality mingled and set his heart racing. "Oz? Oz… Don't do this… I-I'm sorry if I…!" This wasn't funny. It wasn't. _It wasn't._

"Mr Nightray!" Gilbert gasped and snapped his attention away from his friend for a moment, spotting one of Oz's regular nurses standing in the doorway looking both shocked and concerned. "What are you doing?"

Gil's hand automatically clenched Oz's shoulder tighter when he saw the woman glance down at the unconscious blonde before moving across the room towards him._ She was going to make him leave. _A second nurse appeared in the doorway, but disappeared quickly, calling for one of the doctors. He turned his attention back to Oz, desperation driving him to shake the boy hard, "Oz, please!" This wasn't his fault. He didn't mean to…

Oz wasn't moving. If he would just open his eyes then everything would be fine.

All he had to do was open his eyes-!

_Gil's ears were ringing. His chest burned like fire. His shaking limbs could barely keep hold of his best friend's body as he tried in vain to wake him. He called out to him, he pressed a hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. He could hear sirens. He could feel people trying to pull him away. The whole world was nothing but noise, fear, and blood._

_Wake up… wake up… wake up…!_

The next few minutes of Gilbert's life passed by in a blur of confusion and pain, his mind and actions trapped somewhere between the past and present. While still reeling from the remnants of a memory, calling out to his best friend who, in his eyes, was suddenly covered in blood, Gilbert was dragged out of the room and into the corridor. He tried to break free from his captors hold when the door was shut in his face, but his blind panic weakened his body, his breathes becoming short and sharp.

"Mr. Nightray?"

Gilbert vaguely recognized the voice of the female doctor by his side, but he was completely focused on the door before him. "Oz wake up!" he called out as he reached for the door again, his voice raw and hoarse as though he had not used it for quite a while. He pulled against the arms of his captor, struggling, panicking, calling his friends name over and over and over. Breathing was suddenly very difficult.

"Gilbert, stop it!" Another voice… He knew it well, but-

The arms of the speaker wrapped tighter around Gilbert's shoulders and pulled him roughly backwards, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor. He tried to struggle back to his feet, but he was unable to. The person behind him kept their hands on his shoulders and pressed a knee between his shoulder blades, forcing him to bend his already shaking body downward awkwardly so that he could no longer move.

"What are you doing?"

"Stopping him."

"Sir, please let him go! You could hurt him!"

Trapped…

He was trapped. He had to get away. He had to get to Oz. He had to…

He… had… to…

What?

What… should he do?

Oz was hurt. Oz was unconscious. He did this. It was his fault.

What if he never woke up? What if he _died_? What if-?

"Gilbert?"

"Mr Nightray?"

Gilbert had stopped struggling immediately, his face quickly morphing from one of anger to one of dread as the reality of the situation appeared to dawn on him. Pressure was removed from his shoulders and back, but he did not move from his spot on the floor.

_He felt dizzy. He felt weak. His chest was aching as his lungs fought for breath. Was Oz going to die? Oh… Oh God… what had he-?_

A crushing, suffocating feeling of fear wrapped tightly around him, his heart racing and his body shaking horribly. Thoughts were whirling around so rapidly inside his head that he could not make sense of a single one of them; all he could do was feel a horrendous, blinding fear that gripped his heart and crushed his lungs, making breathing properly impossible. Something slipped under his arms and before he knew it he was on his feet, supported by the person who had previously been restraining him. He glanced sideways at them, caught a glimpse of white hair and a single, blood-red eye, before his vision blurred and his legs tried to give way beneath him.

"Come on," Break said, gripping Gilbert's left wrist and pulling that man's arm around his shoulders in order to help him stand, "Stay on your feet."

"Gilbert, listen," the doctor said calmly, "let's go somewhere quiet, okay?"

Gilbert could barely hear them; he continued to gasp short, useless breaths and allowed himself to be directed down the hallway to an unoccupied room, where he was seated and ordered to bend the top half of his body downward slightly and focus on his breathing. Habitually, he folded his hands at the back of his head and rocked slightly.

"You're alright," he heard the woman whisper. "You have to breathe for me, alright Gilbert? You can do it, just breathe in through your nose. That's it, very good…"

_Oz was hurt. Oz was hurt. Oz was hurt._

"Can you tell me what happened, Gilbert? Why were you in the room?"

Gilbert took one deep breath and released a quiet sob, curling in on himself even more. Why was he in the room? _Why_? Because he was a selfish, stupid, horrible person.

Because of that… Oz was…

And it was his fault.

It was all his fault…

_Again_.

**O-O-O**

Oscar didn't know the details; the moment his secretary had come into his meeting and mentioned a call from the hospital about Oz, he was excusing himself and promising to reschedule at a later date. Within minutes he was in a cab and on his way to the hospital, his mind racing with a thousand different reasons as to why the doctor could possibly be calling him.

"_Oz…"_ What had happened? He knew the hospital staff were not supposed to give details over the phone, especially when the person on the receiving end was not a family member, but it certainly couldn't be anything good. It only took him ten minutes to get from work to the hospital, but it felt like an eternity before he was rushing through the front doors and up the stairs to Oz's room.

Just as he turned the corner and entered the all-too-familiar corridor in which his nephew's room was situated, however, Oscar caught sight of Xerxes Break, standing with his back leaning against the doorframe of a room that was not Oz's… And from inside, he heard the voice of a woman uttering a name that caught his attention.

Oscar stopped directly before the door without so much as a glance towards his white-haired workmate, his eyes focused inside. Gilbert was there, seated on an armchair with his body hunched over and his hands pressed against the side of his head, taking deep but heavily strained breathes. Even from where he stood in the doorway, the Vessalius could see just how much Gilbert was shaking, and the sight of the man made Oscar's blood run cold.

He hadn't… He hadn't _actually_ been stupid enough to go into Oz's room after the doctors had specifically told him not to, had he?

No… No, Gilbert wouldn't do that… It had to be something else.

But… Why was he…?

"Oscar, don't," he heard Break whisper, felt the man roughly grab his upper arm as he began to step forward, but he paid no heed, shrugging his arm free of his friend's grip.

"Gilbert?" Though he barely uttered the man's name loud enough to be heard, the dark-haired Nightray instantly looked up from the floor, the sight of his wide, terrified, red eyes stilling Oscar's heart in his chest.

He wanted to believe that Gilbert would never do it... but the guilt and fear in those golden eyes told him everything.

"I'm sorry," Gilbert whispered, flinching when the Vessalius male cursed under his breath and turned towards the door. The Nightray's fingers wrapped around his upper arms and squeezed hard, the aching nothingness in his chest burning brighter, fueled by the silent rage within the man before him. The doctor at his side was talking, telling him to breathe, to calm down, but he was ignoring her. Oscar… He was… _But Gilbert hadn't meant to do it. He didn't want this_… "I-I didn't… I wasn't…"

"Don't," Oscar snapped, unfazed when glanced over his shoulder and saw hurt look on the Nightray's face. Normally, such a look would have caused his parental nature to flair to life in order to remove whatever it was that had upset Gilbert, or it would make guilt bloom within him if he himself was the source of the boy's sadness. He loved Gilbert like a son, just as he did Oz, but this…

This was far too much. After everything they had done for him, Gilbert couldn't do the _one_ thing Oscar had asked of him and stay away from Oz until the boy was ready to see him again. Until he was _well enough_…

Family or not, what Gilbert had done was selfish and wrong. It didn't matter that he hadn't intended to harm, because it did not change the fact that he had done something incredibly stupid that could have put Oz right back in a coma again. Oscar was tired of forgiving him. He had been told to stay away for the good of Oz's health, and yet he had still-!

"I'm sorry…"

"Sorry won't cut it this time, Gilbert." He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, glancing over his shoulder once again to see Gilbert hugging his arms and hunched over, as if he were trying to curl up and hide himself from the elder man's cold words. There it was… that flair of protectiveness that made him want to help the young man, pushed forth by the realization that Gilbert was probably torturing himself enough without any of Oscar's help.

But he just didn't have the strength or patience to comfort Gilbert right now. He had to go and find out what was wrong with Oz. The blonde man moved towards the door briskly, but, as he did so, said, "When you're done here, just go home. I'll let you know what's happening."

He heard a strangled, distressed noise from the man behind him, but he did not stop."B-But-!"

Oscar paused in the doorway and fixed Gilbert with a stern look. He could have sworn he saw a new flash of fear in the young man's eyes, but whether it was of Oscar or the situation itself, the Vessalius did not know. "Gilbert," he said, "Go home."

He had to send him away… If things were as bad as he feared, then he was going to have to discus Gilbert's situation with the doctor. The young man couldn't be there if that happened. He probably would have panicked and broken down already if he had known what Oscar was considering.

As he moved down the hallway to Oz's room, he tried not to think too much about the situation he was currently in, least he lose courage and never make it to his nephew's side, whatever his current state may be. The mind is a wild and unruly thing in times of stress, however, and so he could not keep those thoughts at bay… The thought that one boy, who was like a son to him, may be lost to him yet again, while the other remained on the brink of a mental breakdown, unwilling to reach out and allow Oscar to help him no matter how hard he tried.

It very nearly broke his heart just thinking about them.

Break watched Oscar leave, uncertain if he should think the man worthy of anger or pity. He understood why the man was upset – only a fool wouldn't – and the fact that he very rarely spoke a harsh word to anyone at all only made his feelings seem more justifiable. After all, if the offence was enough to make someone as kind as Oscar turn cold, the enactor must have deserved it. Unfortunately, Break also understood exactly how Gilbert was feeling, why he had done what he had, and why every word and action that Oscar had just expressed had caused ten times more pain in the young, dark-haired man than it would have anyone else in his situation.

Gilbert was staring at the spot in the doorway where Oscar had been standing just moments before, a haunted, horrified look that grew more distraught by the second etched upon his features. Xerxes Break knew that look all too well. "Gilbert?" he asked as he stepped into the room and moved to his side, frowning when he heard the raven-haired man's next words.

"Can I wake up now?" he whispered with a softness so unfitting that it caused Break and the doctor to share an uncertain glance. Despite his tone and words, however, tears were forming in the young man's eyes, "I… Oz… He'll be okay… right?"

Break simply looked at the man, while the doctor tried to comfort him. She told him that the doctors were checking on Oz now, and that they would be back with information any minute now. Complete lies, and Gilbert knew it. He had to, or he wouldn't have ignored the woman and continued to stare at Break with a look of desperation on his face. Was this one of those times when he was supposed to say something like 'He'll be fine' or 'I'm sure it's nothing'? Well, Break would not lie about this, and the truth of the matter was that he didn't know if things were going to be alright. He only had the bare details of the situation, after all, involved at this very minute only because he had been nearby when the ruckus had started and intervened to help control Gilbert. The only thing he was certain of was that Oz was not allowed to see Gilbert… Which he had.

So he said nothing. He simply folded his arms and turned his attention towards the door, unwilling to see the look on the young Nightray's face as the silence that greeted him revealed Break's true feelings about the current situation. He could not contain the quiet sob that escaped him, but what was Break to do about it? Oscar may have taken to babysitting the man, but he certainly had no interest in doing so. If he wanted to indulge himself in negative emotions then let him, but the red-eyed man would offer no shoulder to cry on.

He never left, though, even after the doctor excused herself and sent a male nurse in to speak to Gilbert. It wasn't because he cared or anything; he just had nothing better to do. That, and he was afraid Gilbert would go and do something stupid if someone wasn't keeping an eye on him.

The minutes ticked by like hours, and not a single word was shared between the two men.

**O-O-O**

Gilbert hadn't gone home…

How could he? How could he possibly face going home to his apartment alone with the weight of his best friend's life on his mind? He didn't want to leave… He had to be here, for Oz, even if he was the one who…

Besides… The doctors had wanted to keep an eye on him… They had left him alone in the room shortly after Oscar had left and Gilbert had managed to calm down a little, but not before asking all those _stupid_ questions. He didn't answer them, and his silence eventually seemed to deter the nurse enough to make him leave. Good. He was tired of telling them the same thing every time…

Was he taking any medication? Of course not. Was he going to counseling? No. Not anymore. It didn't help. It never got rid of that horrible, empty feeling inside his heart, or that crushing, cold weight in the pit of his stomach. They asked him if he experienced flashbacks often, if his panic attacks had really disappeared, if he had been thinking about harming himself, or harming others.

No…

No.

No, no, no, no, _no_!

Why did they _always_ do this? Why did they always treat him like he was one second away from becoming a raging madman? Why did they always talk to him in that calm, condescending tone, as if they thought he would break and lash out if they spoke too quickly? He wasn't crazy. He didn't need their help. He didn't need their pills, or their books, or their counseling. He didn't need therapy or to move away from 'the source of his pain' and start anew.

He didn't need _them_.

Gilbert had told them over and over and _over _again that the only thing he needed was the one thing they tried to take away from him. The one thing they told him caused the most harm, when the real truth was that it was the one and _only_ thing that made him feel normal.

And that was… him.

What he needed – all he needed – was _Oz_.

_Oz. Hurt. Pain. Blood._

He gasped and held his head, trying to block out negative thoughts and images that tried to force their way into his mind. _Oz. Blood. __**So much blood**__. Wake up… Wake up-!_

No… Oz was alright… He _had_ to be alright…

The dark-haired man took a deep breath and moved his hands to cover his eyes, trying to stop his breathing from becoming erratic once again. He hated feeling like that. He hated feeling that emptiness that no one could understand. No one, no matter how hard they tried, because they couldn't feel it, and he couldn't explain it.

Break… Break understood… But… he wasn't… here…

"_Gilbert? Can you hear me?"_

No… No, he wasn't here. Gil was alone. He…

Why…?

Was…

He didn't need… But he…

"H… Help…" The word fell from Gilbert's lips without warning, his fingertips wrapping around the strands of hair hanging in front of his face and tugging hard. It was back again… That feeling…That dark presence that tried to crush him whenever he was at his lowest.

"_Damn it Gilbert, listen to me."_

Something touched his shoulder. He flinched and pulled away from it.

He felt sick. He needed help. He wanted out.

He hated this.

He hated it.

_He hated it._

"Oz…" he whimpered, eyes shut tight as he pulled his hair harder, the pain of the act failing to dull the sharp ache in his chest.

He needed Oz. He needed him. _Right now._

Where was he? Why wasn't he here? _Why_…?

Oz couldn't be gone. He couldn't be-!

The blow to the side of his skull quickly pulled Gilbert out of his downward spiral, ripping a cry of pain from him before his hands released his hair and pressed, instead, to the pounding spot on his head. His eyes were hot and sore, but he opened them regardless to try and find the source of the attack. "B... Break…?" When had… Hadn't he been alone just a moment ago? No… Wait… Break had been...

"Get a hold of yourself," Break said, the tone in his voice controlled and unyielding, his emotions completely hidden. He was shaking his hand slightly by his side, probably trying to rid the dull pain caused by striking Gilbert's head. He looked as though he intended to say something, but decided against it, judging by the frustrated sigh the he emitted before turn and sitting on the arm of Gilbert's chair, his back to the man who continued to stare at him.

Break understood. Break knew. He knew what it felt like...

But Break wouldn't… All he ever…

"_You know what Gilbert, you remind me of a poem I once knew. Let's see… what were the words~?"_

Cruel… Break was cruel…

And yet… he was the one who had been able to help Gilbert see again. He was the only one that could pull him back so some semblance of normality. But… if Oz was really… Even Break would not be able to…

Gilbert gasped as a strange, buzzing noise suddenly resounded from nearby, starting with such force that the chair shifted beneath him and Break turned around to regard him with a surprised look. What was…? _"My phone!"_ Gilbert leapt to his feet and dug his hands unto his pockets, uncertain in his panic which one the item was situated in. Gripping it in his right hand he pulled the cell out and lifted it up before him, reading the name on the display.

Oscar.

Gilbert's heart leapt to his throat instantly, all his fears and hopes crushed together in an instant, but he pressed the receive call button without a second thought. "Oscar!" he exclaimed the moment the phone touched his ear, "Is he alright? What happened? Is he awake?" _Please oh please let him be alright!_

He waited on bated breath, his heart hammering in his chest, fearing and anticipating the next few words that were going to resound from his phone.

But… he was greeted with complete silence. A horrible, bone chilling silence that made Gilbert feel sick with anxiety. "O… Oscar?" he said again, glancing towards Break as if to seek reassurance, but the white-haired man's expression was as unreadable as ever. He returned his gaze to the far wall, praying for a response – any response – that would tell him everything as alright, but he received none.

What? What could have happened to make Oscar speechless…?

"H-He's not…?" Gilbert started, dread welling up in the pit of his stomach, cold and painful.

He was. It had happened.

He was in a coma…

Oz was back in a coma.

_He was gone again._

"Oh god…" he gasped, falling back into his chair and covering his mouth with his hand. Break tried to ask him what was happening, but Gilbert could not form any words to respond.

No… This… couldn't be real. Oz wasn't going to… Oz couldn't leave him again… Not again… Not when everything was finally-!

"Gil?"

Gilbert froze, a soft gasp the only noise to escape him as the sound of his name from the other end of the phone startled him from his thoughts.

"Could you come back? Please?"

The cool, controlled tone shocked him and somehow stilled his racing thoughts, an iron fist clenching his heart and twisting it sharply. It took a moment for Gilbert to find his voice, and when he did he only managed to quietly mutter, "Okay."

"Okay… See you soon."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Despite his parting words, Gilbert did not hang up the phone, waiting instead to hear the line cut out at the opposite end before lowering the cell from his ear and staring at the name of his caller once again. 'Oscar', it said.

_But…_ _That hadn't been Oscar's voice…_

**O-O-O**

"Oz, are you sure you're feeling alright?"

The blonde had been staring at his uncle's cell since he had finished his rather short call with Gilbert, a somewhat vacant look in his eyes. He had insisted on being the one to speak to Gilbert and ask him to come back, but the moment he had held the phone to his ear, which took quite a lot of effort in his weakened state, the expression on the boy's face had become undeniable strained, more so when Gilbert's voice resounded from the other end of the line. He had been shocked, unable to answer, and had only snapped out of his silent state when he had caught a glimpse of Oscar out of the corner of his eye, trying to take the phone from him. Even then, his words were short and simple, and he had not stopped shaking since.

The young Vessalius raised his gaze from the phone at the sound of his uncle's voice, allowing his head to sink comfortably into the pillow beneath his head and trying his very best to smile in a clear attempt to lessen the worried frown on Oscar's face. If anything, the awkward, tired smile he offered only made him appear more upset.

"I'm f... fine un-cle," he said, making a face at the way his sentences continued to come out disjointed and awkward. "Just a bump on the… head. No worries~" Oscar did not miss the boy's attempt to add a lyrical undertone to his voice, but it merely resulted in a strange, squeaking hint to his words. Well, he made the effort, so Oscar returned the favor, chuckling at the young male's expense and making him glance away in embarrassment.

Of course Oz wasn't fine, and Oscar was in no mood for laughing, but they did what they could to try and help each other feel a little bit better.

"Well, good," Oscar said with a sigh, sitting down at the edge of his nephew's bed and taking his cell from the boy's limp hands. There was an awkwardness between them, mild but definitely present, caused by the weight of words left unspoken. Words like 'I was worried', 'I was scared', 'I thought I was going to lose you again'.

Oscar would never say them aloud, however, because he did not want to upset his nephew. It wasn't as though Oz himself was not aware of the danger he could have been in, or the fear that his uncle must have felt on his way to the hospital, but simply pretending that those negative feelings never existed still offered some sort of comfort and prevented them from becoming too real.

Stlll… As he slipped the phone from Oz's thin, fragile fingers, he allowed his far larger right hand to lie on top of his nephew's momentarily. It was a simple gesture, but done deliberately, and the soft smile that appeared on Ozs face told Oscar that he had understood the meaning behind it. The boy's left hand moved to lay on top of his uncle's and his own – a silent apologue for worrying the man – before their hands were separated.

"A bump to the head and you call in the Calvary? You're such a drama queen," Oscar grinned, to which Oz hummed in agreement and said – albeit awkwardly – that he had thrown himself from bed in order to get Oscar out of 'those boring meetings'. All Oscar cared about was that the boy was alright; according to the doctor, the shock of realizing who Gilbert was had probably pushed him over the edge and rendered him unconscious, but it was the knock to the head when he hit the floor that did the real damage. He was going to have to stay awake in case he had a concussion, but otherwise he was just fine. Oscar had been called because it was hospital protocol to get the patients family to the building if there was any chance of their condition deteriorating.

Oscar would have liked to ask Oz what exactly had given the game away (the blonde had mentioned that he had already known he had been in a coma far longer than the doctors were telling him), but a sudden, rapid knocking on the door caught both their attention. No nurse would knock like that, and Oscar could think of only one person that could be so incredibly excited and yet not break down the door in the process; he should have known Gilbert would still be in the hospital despite being told to go home over an hour previously.

"It looks like your visitor is here," the man said with a smile, watching his nephew's eyes flash with a plethora of emotions as he stared at the door, each one whirling around for a moment before being replaced by another. He would have preferred to tell the boy to rest up before meeting his friend, but doctor's orders were to keep him awake. "I could tell him to take a jog around the hospital and come back," he said, half joking, half serious. Though, knowing Gilbert, he would sprint around the building and make it back in record time.

"No," Oz said softly, shaking his head, "I w… want to s-see him."

The determination in his eyes, mixed with a sense of hopeful anticipation, removed any arguments the elder Vessalius had prepared in mind. Really... those two were impossible to keep apart. "I'll make myself scarce for a while, then," the elder man said, pushing himself off the bed and offering the boy an encouraging smile when he quietly thanked him.

His earlier actions came back to haunt him as he opened the door and slipped out without raising his head to regard the two people waiting outside, closing the door behind him quietly. Would Gilbert be upset with him? Probably not. It was far more likely that the man would be blaming himself for whatever Oscar had said rather than being angry with him. If so, then the best way to deal with the situation was.. to pretend nothing had happened, just like he always did.

So Oscar placed a pleased grin on his face and turned to regard Gilbert and Break, saying, "Well, it's about time, isn't it Gil?" The dark-haired man's eyes widened in surprise at those words, and Oscar did him a favor by reaching forward and flicking his forehead hard. "No, you're not dreaming!" the elder Vessalius laughed as Gilbert reached up and rubbed the sore spot on his head, placing a hand on the man's shoulder and the other on the door handle. "And since there's no time like the present…"

"What? W-Wait!" Gilbert stuttered, but yelped as the door was thrown open and, in the same instant, Oscar gripped the material of his jacket and as good as tossed him through into Oz's room.

"Just make sure he stays awake; doctors orders!" Oscar said, closing the door on the stumbling man, chuckling when he heard a loud thump as the man tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face as a result of Oscar's actions. Maybe that would break the tension between Oz and Gilbert, though that hadn't been the reason Oscar had been so quick to force the young Nightray inside. He was tired, if truth were to be told; he had spent the last half an hour or so briefly explaining everything to Oz, and after the shock, fear, guilt and anger that resulted from the day's earlier events, he was willing to take the blonde's words as truth and accept that Oz was ready to meet Gilbert properly. He didn't have the energy to make a little song and dance about the situation. It was up to the two of them now.

The elder Vessalius released a breath he had not been aware he was holding, allowing his hand to fall from the door handle to his side. This had been a very, very long day…

"You're looking old, boss," Break said, his tone decorated with a touch of amusement.

Oscar laughed, an action that came to him a little too easily, "Ah, your eyesight must be going funny on you, Xerxes. I'm as handsome and energetic as I always was!"

"You must have been an ugly child then," the red-eyed man commented with a smirk, waving a dismissive hand when Oscar shook a fist at him in an unthreatening manor. Despite his nonchalant tone and actions, however, Break's eye remained focused solely on the blond before him, dissecting the man's outer shell and reading him like an open book. Really, he was being so generous with his time today~ "Gilbert only brought some of that horrible, bitter black coffee of his and Liam refused to share his tea with me, so I'm going to get something deliciously diabetes-inducing to drink. Care to join me?"

"That sounds good, actually," Oscar said, smiling gratefully, "Though I could probably do with something a little stronger right now."

"Then it's off to the grocery store we go~!"

"Store-bought liquor? Classy, Xerxes."

"Getting drunk in the afternoon? Classy, _Old Man_."

**O-O-O**

Gilbert had felt himself being propelled into Oz's room before he had a chance to properly register what Oscar had been planning. He had felt gravity pull him every which way, before his legs crossed awkwardly and caused him to stumble and land flat on the floor. He had heard the elder Vessalius' laughter as the door shut behind him, and the muffled conversation that took place between Oscar and Break before they had departed, voices fading as the pair made their way down the corridor.

Gilbert, however, barely noticed any of this… because once he had managed to scramble to his feet and brush himself off in embarrassment, his eyes were lost in twin emerald orbs that completely wiped away the rest of the world.

Oz was sitting up, his fingers lost in the material of his bed sheet and his arms shaking with the strain of clenching the fabric far too hard. Forgetting himself for a moment, Gilbert took a few steps forward towards the boy before stopping dead in his tracks at the end of his bed, uncertain. Oz… Oz was right there, just a few feet away… His expression was unreadable; he was not smiling, but he did not appear guarded or upset in any way, either.

Gilbert swallowed hard, his fists clenching at his side, eyes never leaving Oz's.

He felt… numb.

He was afraid… Afraid that this was all going to go wrong somehow. It always did. Nothing ever worked out… And this fear was so strong, the ache from his earlier emotions still lingering like an ominous storm cloud around his heart, that he could not feel hope, or excitement, or joy, despite the fact that everything he wanted was right there in front of him. He could see Oz, and Oz could see him, and they were finally back together after all this time… All his feelings were held within a fragile wall that threatened to burst at any moment.

Without a word, Oz lightly pet the space on the bed just next to his knees. Gilbert moved forward silently and lowered himself to sit on the edge of the mattress, refusing to take his eyes off the boy before him. He didn't even want to blink for fear of waking up, because he just could not bring himself to believe that this was real…

It was silent as both Oz and Gilbert simply stared at one another, trying to make sense of the reality that presented itself before their eyes. Gilbert saw his best friend, a physically weak boy who, for many, many years, had always been right in front of him but, at the same time, just out of reach. Now… Now the boy was here, judging him, and Gilbert was terrified that the boy would reject him, or not recognize him, or that he really was mad, and that he himself would wake up to find that Oz had never come out of his coma at all.

Oz saw a tall, dark-haired man with golden eyes that shone with a child's hope and a widower's despair in the very same instance, wide and wild and pleading in a way the boy had only seen once before in his life. He saw a man who was scared and uncertain.

But most importantly… He saw _him_…

He shouldn't have been able to… He should have been scared, or upset, or angry… But going into denial would not make him feel any better, and his friend's identity had already been confirmed by the man himself and Oscar. If this was how things were, then he would just accept it and move forward as best he could. Besides, even in that adult body, with those frightened eyes, Oz could see exactly who it was sitting before him as though he had been with him all these years rather than trapped in this weak, comatose body.

So…

Gilbert started when something suddenly appeared between himself and Oz. The blonde's hand, he realized, rising shakily from where it had rested on the boy's lap so that it hovered just above Gilbert's head. What was he…? He gasped when he felt pressure against his skull, just above his forehead.

Oz shifted his hand slightly from where it rested, trying to ruffle his best friend's dark locks in the same casual manner his uncle always did to him, but it had taken all his strength just to raise his arm that high. He chuckled instead, smiling warming at the shocked look on the man's face. "Hey there, Gil…" he whispered softly.

And at the sound of those three, simple words, words of recognition from the most important person in his life, Gilbert felt certain that his heart would burst with the torrent of emotions that suddenly burst forth from inside.

Without thinking, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his best friend's torso, Oz's hand sliding off his head at the sudden movement that forced the boy back against the raised mattress behind him. He buried his face in the crook of Oz's neck and heard the boy gasp in surprise at the sudden closeness, felt his body stiffen as uncertainty and embarrassment gripped him, but Gilbert didn't care. Not one, tiny bit.

Oz… He could feel him, and see him, smell him and touch him. He could hear him breathing, _feel_ it as the Vessalius' chest raised and lowered against his body, his breath stirring strands of Gilbert's hair as he turned his head slightly to try and see the man better. With his ear pressed against Oz's neck, he could even feel his heartbeat.

Pulsing. Beating. _Living_.

This was no dream… This was real… _Oz was real_…

A shuddered breath escaped the dark haired man, his eyes warm and sore.

And… it was okay. It was okay for him to cry and let his guard down. It was okay for him to let go.

He was allowed to.

He was _able_ to, because Oz was here.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt safe.

"O-Oz…"

It was alright.

Everything… was _finally_ alright…

"I missed you…" Gilbert choked out, gasping and burying his face in the boy's shoulder, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

"_I missed you, I missed you, I love you, I need you. Don't leave me. Never leave me. Never leave me again…!"_

He should say it… He should say it out loud… He'd waited long enough - far too long, actually - and now he had the chance to say all the things he had regreted holding back when they were children... but his throat was tight and his mind unable to transform thoughts into words, so he held on and tried to put all his feelings into his embrace, hoping that Oz would somehow understand.

"Hey, come on, why a… are you cryin-g?" Oz asked, chuckling quietly when his dark-haired friend merely sobbed harder at his question, his arms tightening around the smaller boy's frame to the point he was almost crushing him. It hurt, but it didn't bother Oz in the slightest. In fact, the pain that came with the man's embrace was comforting, because it was proof of just how strongly Gil was feeling in that moment.

Gilbert had missed him… And he had missed Gilbert; the hole in his heart that he had previously been unaware of was now bursting with warmth and happiness, creating a fluttering, happy sensation in his chest. Even the dark emotions, the bitterness and anger trying to force their way into his heart, were completely blown away by the appearance of his best friend. "Big baby…" he teased halfheartedly, raising his weak, shaky arms and draping them across his friend's back in a poor attempt to return the crying man's embrace. He tried to ignore the hot, burning sensation behind his own eyes, which only worsened with each tiny gasp and sob that came from the man holding him.

Oz was happy… He was so happy that Gilbert was safe and strong and healthy. Happy that he was here. Happy that Gil was holding him, even if being so close to the man made his face burn and his heart beat just a little too fast…

But that happiness was somewhat clouded, because something just wasn't right about this… Something wasn't right with _Gilbert_…

Though it was clear that he was still the same person, with the same traits and values (that much was clear in the very fact that he was still by Oz's side after all this time), Oz just knew that something was missing. Gil was back to the way he was when they first met, locking away who he really was and falling prey to the horrendous, crippling emotions that controlled his mind.

And that wasn't right… Gilbert could not possibly be happy like this, just like he had not been happy all those years ago by forcing people away and keeping to himself all the time. He had thought it was what he wanted, but once he had opened up to Oz there had been a new spark of life in his eyes that had never shone before.

That light was dull now… Tears poured from his eyes unchecked, his voice hoarse and his body shaking, and though the act had initial touched Oz it now began to tear at his heart. So much feeling… so much relief and yet so much pain all melded together in the same moment. What had Gilbert been going through over these past years to turn him into this?

Well… Oz had forced his way through Gilbert's shields before, and he had every intention of doing so again. He was going to get him back… Back from wherever it was the _real_ Gilbert had gone in the last few years.

"I-I thought…" the young Nightray stuttered, swallowing thickly and clutching the material of Oz's clothes, "I thought I'd lost you…"

Oz closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to knock against Gil's slightly, the only action he could perform in his current state that would alert his friend to his presence and catch his attention. "I-It's okay…" he whispered, feeling Gilbert relax into his arms somewhat, as if he were the smaller one, being comforted by Oz, "I'm… here…"

He was here… and he wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't going to let the world hurt his best friend anymore. He'd been through enough, and he had stayed strong for Oz all this time… Now it was time to return the favor.

"_Don't worry Gilbert… I'll find you…"_

**O-O-O**

**To Be Continued**

**O-O-O**

Aha, and now the title begins to make a little sense :)

Ack, I hate this chapter, but I'm too tired and my headache too strong for me to even entertain the prospect of yet another rewrite - Besides, I want to get to the Ozbert scenes :)

Yes, the last cliffhanger came to naught in the long run, but you sure learned about Gil's mental state. I know a lot of people think it's excessive, but circumstances dictated it (since brainwashing doesn't exist in this AU and that is a hugely important part of his relationship with Oz in the manga). Regardless, I'm just glad this chapter is over! Now, once Gil's past is done, we can actually get to Oz's attempts to recover and get some outright cute and fun Ozbert along the way :)

But first, _Loyalty_ needs an update! ^_^ Hope writers block doesn't strike yet again :S

Until next time ^_~


	7. A Question for the Readers

I'm afraid this is not a chapter ^_^; Though the next one is coming along really quickly despite my attempts to leave it alone! (Poor _Loyalty_ really needs more attention ^_^;) Outlining future chapters is fun too; I don't know why, but the Oz and Gilbert moments to come in this story just seem so much cuter to me than any of the others I've written... I can't wait to get to them ^_^

Anyway, I wanted to ask you guys what you would prefer to read before I write too much more; originally I was intending to bring the whole story back and write the day of the accident, the crash, and the aftermath (how Gil dealt with it, how far his mind deteriorated, etc.) in 'present time'. After the last few chapters, though, I'm wondering if there had been enough detail about Gil's emotional issues for one fanfic ^_^;

.

* * *

**Basically, I'm wondering which of these two options you prefer:**

1) The story get's taken back and you get to see Gil and Oz as kids together on the day of the crash. You then see the accident, the events that follow, and what happened to Gilbert over the ten years as if it were a separate story. It would be condensed (about 2-3 chapters hopefully) but there would be a lot in it.

2) The second option is that Oscar, or Ada, or whoever finally tells Oz the story of Gil's past (because Gilbert certainly won't) tell it to the reader as well; you'll hear Gil's past through their words, and some aspects of it may be elaborated by Gil himself later. You won't get as clear an image immediately, but you'll pick up pieces as the story moves along.

* * *

.

Overall, it depends how much detail you would like about Gil's past :) I would be happy to write either, and I'm pretty loose with this fic since it is just supposed to be something fun to work on at the side, so I'll do whatever my readers prefer :)

And so this isn't a complete waste of your time, here's a tiny portion of the start of the next chapter. It may change (considering the last chapter got quite a lot of rewrites), but this is what I have so far :) Poor Gilbert is always miserable in this fic, haha ^_^; Don't worry! The next chapter is a happy one with other characters making little appearances, and hopefully there will be some subtle Oz and Gil fluff, too ^_^

**O-O-O**

**Preview**

**O-O-O**

Gilbert was having a particularly horrible day.

He left his home a few minutes later than usual and missed the bus to work. Refusing to be late on a day when Eliot was supposed to be in the office, he had reluctantly hired a taxi in hopes of making it there on time, but morning traffic and a rather incompetent taxi driver (who took him down a countless number of back roads just to tot up the price of the trip) meant that he arrived late regardless of his good intentions. Eliot had given him an earful, Reo had insisted that his friend would have covered for Gilbert anyway, prompting the youngest Nightray to become even angrier and much, _much _louder, and Gilbert had been left with one hell of a migraine.

Then, to make matter worse, Claude had decided to choose that very moment to show his face in the office for the first time in weeks. The moment he realized Gilbert had been late, he took far too much pleasure in verbally abusing the man in front of the rest of the staff before telling Gilbert this was his 'final warning' and leaving, a confident smirk on his face. It took all Gil's strength not to quit then and there, and the only thing that really stopped him was the guilty look on Eliot's face as he watched his brother leave. The teen often yelled at Gil, insulted him and claimed he was useless and would be fired in no time, but he never actually _wanted_ the man to get in trouble. That was why he had covered for him so many times, staying late and fulfill tasks he had no obligation to do just so Gil wouldn't get into trouble, though he constantly denied that he did such things.

Eliot was the only member of his family that wanted anything to do with him, so he didn't want to put all the boy's effort to waste by simply giving up. Grit his teeth, swallow his rage, and get to work; that's all there was to it.

The phones didn't stopped ringing all day, the paperwork never seemed to end, and the two or three customers he had be sent to deal with had to have been some of the noisiest, rudest, most stubborn people he had ever met in his life. None of this did his steadily growing headache any favors, and by lunch he just wanted to curl up under his desk and wait for the work day to end. Thankfully, Reo brought him some medicine that lessened the pain steadily throughout the day, but the workload and people were still as infuriating as ever.

So he was more than happy to punch out at five o' clock without a second thought, practically running from the building just in case he would be asked to do something else. Then, of course, it started raining. He had a coat, but it had no hood, and he'd left his umbrella at home. He missed the bus again, and was forced to make his way to the hospital on foot. By the time he entered through the front door he was soaked from head to toe, tired, hungry, and physically ill as a result of all the pent up rage gathered in his chest, pressing down on his weak stomach.

Overall… It had been a really, _really_ bad day, the kind that made him want to go home, eat something fattening, lounge in front of the television and sulk.

**O-O-O**

Aaaaand that's all for now I'm afraid! See you in the next chapter! ^_^


	8. Chapter 6

Hmm… it's been quite a while, I wonder if anyone is still interested ^_^; Sorry everyone! I haven't really felt like writing in a long time but a friend of mine got me really inspired to get back to work on my fics, so thank you girl! :)

Best get on with the story; it's been a while so I'm sorry if it's not very good. The next two chapters are a bit of a transition, so I hope you'll bear with me ^_^; We need to get through Gil's past before the fluff can start (Though I just can't help myself and tried to shoehorn in a bit anyway~)

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this fic so far! And since people seemed to like the last song mention, my two current songs for this story are 'Find Me' by Boyce Avenue and 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls (Suggested by MrsTwisted; thank you so much! ^_^).

Alright, enough rambling :) On to the story!

**O-O-O**

**Chapter 6**

**O-O-O**

Ten… It didn't seem like a very big number. Ten ones, five twos, two fives, et cetera…

But ten _years_?

Though part of his mind had grown accustomed to the revelation, it was hard to accept overall... Even after seeing his best friend as an adult, or his baby sister as young woman, the idea just didn't settle comfortably in his mind. He knew he had been in a coma, and yet there was still a tiny part of him that expected to wake up and find out that this was all some sort of crazy dream, that he had simply overslept and was going to be late for school or something.

It was strange… he remembered the day of the accident so clearly… He had woken up early that day, but still managed to hang around long enough to drive the ever punctual Gilbert half-way mad with panic. They had to cycle, which Gilbert hated because Oz always made him cycle while he sat at the back and poked his friend's sides, terrorizing him the whole way to school. He remembered the daily confrontation between Gilbert and Alice – it had been about copying homework that time, right? – the usual boring lessons, the fact he damp weather forced them to stay inside during lunch. He remembered the rain getting worse, how excited he had been to get home and tell Gil the good news, the frustration waiting for the bus, the taxi… Hell, he even remembered stupid things like the fact he'd had fried chicken for lunch, and that Mr. Harrison had been a whole twenty minutes late for class, and even that Gil had been wearing that dark blue shirt he bought him for his birthday…

It just seemed strange that he could remember it all so clearly when, in reality, this had all happened over three and a half _thousand_ days ago…

… What was he doing? This didn't help… Why was he even thinking about all this, anyway?

The sound of a door opening told him that his uncle had finished talking to the nurse who had just given him a check up, his mind undoubtedly laden with every kind of tip and trick the doctors had come up with to try and get Oz to act or think a certain way in order to make the healing process 'easier'. He tried his best to ignore the twist in his chest that accompanied his uncles arrival; taking a deep breath he feigned a tired stretch, sighing loudly and turning his head to face his uncle, smiling softly, "Damage re-port?"

Oscar took just a moment to respond, and that alone was evidence enough that, despite the smile on his face, something was on the elder Vessalius' mind. "Laziness, apparently," he answered as he moved across the room to the younger man's bedside, reaching out and snatching his coat from the end of Oz's bed, "she thinks you're lying about doing your weight routines because your muscles aren't developing as much as they should. I'm supposed to find a subtle way to get you to exercise more."

"Mmm," Oz hummed with exaggerated understanding, "I see… and this 's subtle, uncle?"

"Is there ever any point trying with you?" Oscar asked with a doubtful smile.

The younger man chuckled quietly and shook his head in answer to his uncle's question, eyes falling to his hands for a moment, flexing his fingers distractedly. He really was a nuisance to his poor uncle, stuck in a hospital bed, a constant financial burden and source of stress. He had always intended to skip college and beginning working in the family company as soon as he was old enough in an attempt to pay the man back for everything he had done for him and Ada, but…

He had to try harder… He had to stop making excuses for himself. Maybe he couldn't set his pride aside and do those stupid routines when others were around, but there were plenty of hours in the day when everyone was working or at school. He would just have to sleep a little less and work for longer periods, that's all there was to it. "I'll try ha-r-der," he said, looking up at his uncle with an apologetic smile, "Sorry."

Something flashed across his uncle's eyes, something far too close to understanding for Oz's liking, but in a moment it was gone and the man was grinning, his hand clamping down on the younger Vessalius' shoulder and shaking him slightly, "Hey, don't worry about it, just do your best and you'll be out of here in no time, alright?"

There was just something about his uncle's boundless optimism that forced a laugh from Oz's mouth, his smile coming much easier when the man ruffled his hair, as was his usual habit. Really, he wasn't a child anymore, but more often than not his uncle still treated him like he did when he was five. Not that it bothered Oz in the slightest… "Okay, I will," he said, eyes falling to the coat in the man's arms, "You g-going now?"

"I'm afraid so," Oscar said with an apologetic smile of his own, "I've got to get back to the office, and visiting hours were over twenty minutes ago."

"It's fine," Oz grinned, "I need sleep~"

"Exercise," Oscar said, "_then_ sleep."

The younger Vessalius stuck out his tongue, "Bos-sy." He smiled as his uncle chuckled and playfully knocked his fist against the side of his head, bidding him farewell and promising he would see him tomorrow. It took a moment for those words to register properly, and when they did Oz frowned. Just as Oscar was reaching for the door handle he said, "Wait, uncle?" The man paused and didn't turn around, making Oz huff. Had he hoped the boy had forgotten? "You s-said you'd tell me."

Oscar sighed, placing his hand on the door handle but turning to face his nephew instead. "Yes, I know, I remember," he said, the tone in his voice making it clear that he wished he had never made such a promise, "Oz, are you sure?" The blonde in question nodded without a moment's hesitation, causing the elder man to shake his head and smile, "Ask a stupid question, hmm? Alright… I'll see you later, then."

"Thanks… S-See you," Oz said, waving slightly as he uncle turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He could hear Oscar pausing to talk and laugh with a woman outside, but was relieved when the man's voice faded and the nurse did not reenter his room. He really did just want to be alone right now… Taking a deep breath Oz let himself sink into the pillows behind him, eyes closing as he released a long, heavy sigh, trying to dispel the uncomfortable feelings in his body. Uncomfortable? Why would he feel…?

Within moments, thoughts returned to that amber-eyed, dark-haired man whose face appeared in his mind whenever it seemed to be idle, a twin thread of worry and… something… wrapping around his heart in the same instance.

"_Tonight, huh?"_ he thought with a frown as he reached out and lifted the dumbbell from the bedside table to begin his session. It had taken a little convincing on his part, and Oscar had to ignore the doctor's advice in order to go through with it, but tonight, when Gilbert and Ada had gone home, Oscar was finally going to tell him everything, absolutely _everything_, that he wanted to know about what had happened to his best friend since the accident. The thought made him excited and fearful all at once, swirling in his stomach and causing him to feel slightly ill. That would not change his mind, however. He needed to know what had happened to Gilbert or he would never be able to help him…

"_Such a troublesome kid…"_ he thought to himself, _"Ah… wait, he's a man now… Strange…"_

Strange… because Gilbert didn't act like a man at all...

Oz did not believe that an adult needed to be any more than a big child with a greater sense of responsibility and enough knowledge in their brains to properly care for those that were younger than them, but Gilbert just… There was just something not right about the way he behaved; disregarding the strange things he _did_, his personality and his body just did not match at all… It had been ten years, and yet Gilbert acted shockingly similar to the fourteen-year-old that Oz had left behind that day...

Had he grown up at all? Other than getting a job and living alone, had he changed? From what he had learned in the short time that the two had been reunited, Oz could only assume that the progress they had made together between their first encounter and the accident had gone _backwards_…

Oz had really hoped that after ten years Gilbert would have opened up enough to have made some new friends, but that didn't seem to be the case. Every day he came to the hospital and stayed until it was time to go home. He never really talked about the people at work unless he was asked, he never mentioned any other friends, and he never seemed to have anywhere else to be. At least when they were younger Gilbert had the other children at the orphanage and some people in class that he spoke to and appeared quite content to stay with when he was apart from Oz, but now his only interest in human contact seemed to be with the Vessalius family. Maybe Oz's information was a bit limited, but that was the impression he had.

There was also the issue of how upset he got when Oz's attention wavered. Yes, Gilbert had always been more than a little clingy when they had been young, but if Oz stopped paying attention to him in favor of someone else he would simply wait for the conversation to end, sulk quietly if he was in a bad mood, or try to not-so-subtly cut in on whatever conversation Oz was having with the other person (more often than not, this was Alice). Now, however, Gilbert almost looked distraught if Oz ignored him or his attention switched from him too quickly. He became quiet and sad, and sometimes it was actually quite a struggle to get him to become actively involved in the conversation again. It wasn't as though he didn't want to speak to them, either. It was more like… he suddenly didn't think his opinion mattered, and so he didn't see the point in trying to contribute to the conversation. A few kind or teasing words from Oz seemed to pull him out of it, but there was always that lingering uncertainty in his eyes for the rest of the visit.

Even with all of that, one of the strangest things that Oz had noticed about Gil was actually the fact that he had become very… touchy. Most of the time he took no notice, because it was often no more than a gentle brush of fingertips along his forearm, a ruffle of his hair or squeeze of his shoulder. Those were normal gestures, ones that didn't bother him in the slightest unless they persisted over a long period… but one day Gilbert, mid-way through their conversation, had reached out and gently taken Oz's hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over the still sensitive skin on the back of the blonde's hand and continuing to talk and listen as though it were the most natural thing in the world, his eyes on their hands and a soft smile on his face.

Oz, embarrassed after a minute or two of this strange contact, he had quietly questioned his friend what he was doing, and the reaction had been just as strange as the act itself. At first, Gil merely looked confused, glancing up towards Oz's face, then down to their joined hands and back up again. It took a good five seconds after that for his face to color and his body to react as the blonde had expected it to right away, releasing Oz's hand as though it were something scalding, apologizing quietly and lowering his eyes to the floor. He was so embarrassed that he hardly spoke for the rest of the visit, despite being quite comfortable to speak beforehand.

That would have been strange enough if it had been an isolated event… but just three days later Gilbert did it again, and his reaction had been almost identical.

Certainly, if Gilbert had done that ten years ago, Oz may have teased him for it and, in all honesty, he probably would have enjoyed it… a little… maybe… But things were different now, and he didn't know how he was supposed to react to Gilbert's actions or how he should feel about them because… Gil wasn't all there yet. There was something clouding his vision, suffocating him, whether the man was aware of it or not. Oz wanted to be sure… he needed to know which of his friend's actions and feelings were real and which ones were an illusion before he could even consider he own emotions.

Those would have to wait.

He sighed, tightening his grip on the weight in his hand and lifting slightly. He really did spend a lot of his time thinking about Gilbert, but that was not exactly new… Right before the accident, Gilbert had been on his mind a lot, actually. In fact, Gilbert was the _only_ thing on his mind that day, because that was the day that…

"Geez," he grumbled, annoyed with his own inability to control his thoughts. He had to use that energy to build his muscles, not think about the past or worry about how he feels in the present. Neither of those were important right now; tonight, he would find out everything, and then he would be able to figure out how to help his friend come back out of his shell and stop being so afraid of the world. He took a deep break and lifted the weight again, frowning at the ceiling. He was relieved to finally be getting some real information, of course, but getting a clearer picture of the magnitude of the task ahead was a little daunting. Still, he would do everything in his power to aid in his friend's recovery, and since knowledge was the key to his success he would ask every question he could possibly think of.

Before that, though, he had to do some exercises and get some rest so that he was fresh and ready for visitors when his best friend and sister would come to see him later. With that thought in mind he pushed himself into a more upright position, tightened his hold on the weight in his hand, and begin to lift and lower it as steadily a possibly, mentally cursing when he lost rhythm after merely two reps.

He continued to work, doing five reps more on each arm that his doctor suggested and two sessions end to end before taking a break and trying again. It had been a real struggle to finish that third session, but he did it, and hated every aching moment.

A glance at the clock. 3:30. _"Gil will be here in two hours,"_ he thought to himself, his arms aching as he moved the weights to the bedside table and slide down beneath the covers. It was an idle thought, one that should have stirred nothing but quiet curiosity or a mild sense of excitement or happiness at the prospect of his friend's arrival.

But there was certainly nothing mild about the way his heart ached, painful, yet pulling his lips into a small, fleeting smile.

Apparently there was a part of him that was still beating strong, even after all these years, and it was not willing to wait until Oz himself had completely figured out his situation before it started to react to the mere thought of Gilbert. Well, he was not going to get it control him; he had a job to do. Everything else had to wait.

With a huff, he pulled the blanket over his head. Two hours. He wouldn't sleep that long. He'd be awake before Gil came…

Before…

"_Stupid Gil…"_

**O-O-O**

Gilbert was having a particularly horrible day.

He left his home a few minutes later than usual and missed the bus to work. Refusing to be late on a day when Eliot was supposed to be in the office, he had reluctantly hired a taxi in hopes of making it there on time, but morning traffic and a rather incompetent taxi driver (who took him down a countless number of back roads just to tot up the price of the trip) meant that he arrived late regardless of his good intentions. Eliot had given him an earful, Reo had insisted that his friend would have covered for Gilbert anyway, prompting the youngest Nightray to become even angrier and much, _much _louder, and Gilbert had been left with one hell of a migraine.

Then, to make matter worse, Claude had decided to choose that very moment to show his face in the office for the first time in weeks. The moment he realized Gilbert had been late, he took far too much pleasure in verbally abusing the man in front of the rest of the staff before telling Gilbert this was his 'final warning' and leaving, a confident smirk on his face. It took all Gil's strength not to quit then and there, and the only thing that really stopped him was the guilty look on Eliot's face as he watched his brother leave. The teen often yelled at Gil, insulted him and claimed he was useless and would be fired in no time, but he never actually _wanted_ the man to get in trouble. That was why he had covered for him so many times, staying late and fulfill tasks he had no obligation to do just so Gil wouldn't get into trouble, though he constantly denied that he did such things.

Eliot was the only member of his family that wanted anything to do with him, so he didn't want to put all the boy's effort to waste by simply giving up. Grit his teeth, swallow his rage, and get to work; that's all there was to it.

The phones didn't stopped ringing all day, the paperwork never seemed to end (as it often did on the days his elder relatives were around), and the two or three customers he had be sent to deal with had to have been some of the noisiest, rudest, most stubborn people he had ever met in his life. None of this did his steadily growing headache any favors, and by lunch he just wanted to curl up under his desk and wait for the work day to end. Thankfully, Reo brought him some medicine that lessened the pain steadily throughout the day, but the workload and people were still as infuriating as ever. People kept asking him if he was alright, too, and that only made him even more frustrated. He knew they were trying to be nice, but he just wanted to be left alone and not be reminded of how _not_ 'alright' he was.

So he was more than happy to punch out at five o' clock without a second thought, practically running from the building just in case he would be asked to do something else. Then, of course, it started raining. He had a coat, but it had no hood, and he'd left his umbrella at home. He missed the bus again, and was forced to make his way to the hospital on foot. By the time he entered through the front door he was soaked from head to toe, tired, hungry, and physically ill as a result of all the pent up rage gathered in his chest, pressing down on his weak stomach.

Overall… It had been a really, _really_ bad day, the kind that made him want to go home, eat something fattening, lounge in front of the television and sulk. Maybe have a smoke. Or two. Or three…

Not that he ever did.

He had somewhere to be, after all.

He stopped only to try and dry off a little in one of the men's public toilets on the first floor, squeezing water from his hair and clothes and even holding his shoes beneath the hand dryer. It didn't really help much, and there was still an uncomfortable dampness in his sneakers when he slipped them back on his now bare feet, his socks and jacket having been shoved in his backpack simply because he was not bothered to correctly dry either of them. Slinging the bag over his shoulder he tried his best to finger-comb his semi-dry hair into some semblance of order before deciding it was a lost cause and near-stomping his way out of the bathroom and down the hall. Even after all that, he was still cold, wet and uncomfortable… and he felt like crap.

He did not even pause to knock when he finally reached room 115, butterflies fluttering in his already unsettled stomach in excited anticipation as he reached out and pushed the handle down, stepping into the hospital room without a second thought.

He froze, however, when his eyes fell on the completely still figure lying in the bed before him, his hot, racing heart leaping up into his throat, because it was still there… that quiet fear, that cold shard of ice that always made itself present whenever he saw the boy with his eyes closed just a little too long. It was stupid, he knew, but he just couldn't help but worry. He had grown accustomed to his best friend being comatose, but after he finally woke up the thought of it happening again just…

"Oz?" Gilbert asked quietly, uncertain as to whether or not the blonde was asleep or merely resting his eyes. The lack of a response would have been answer enough, but when he paused and actually listened, Gilbert could hear the blonde snoring gently, something that pulled the dark-hard man's lips into a gentle smile. For some reason the sound was both amusing and endearing at once, and it worked like a balm that warmed and loosened that tight knot of worry in his chest. Placing his backpack down next to the door and making his way across the room, he actually felt a small chuckle make its way from his stomach to his throat, warming his insides along the way and making him forget the anger that had been shaking him mere moments ago. Really, Oz must have been in a deep sleep to be drooling all over his pillow like that.

"Well, aren't you charming?" he whispered quietly, his hand automatically pulling a tissue from the box set upon the cupboard beside Oz's bed, which he folded and used to carefully remove the line of saliva from the boy's cheek, knowing that Oz would have been embarrassed if he knew Gilbert had found him in such a state. "There…" he whispered when his sleeping friend's face was clean, dropping the tissue in the trash and turning his attention back to Oz, smiling warmly.

He had looked upon this face for so many years, but this was the first time since they had been reunited that he had actually seen the boy _sleeping. _It was a heartwarming sight… Unlike before, unlike those ten, long years, Oz could dream now… He slipped between the realms of fantasy and reality rather than being trapped within the dark patch between them, and he looked so relaxed, with no signs of pain or discomfort...

Gilbert almost couldn't help himself, his hand reaching out and touching his friend's cheek gently as though he simply had to be sure that he was really there, the warmth beneath his chilled fingertips spreading throughout his body in a gentle ripple. The feeling wasn't new – it had been there for many, many years – but in little more than a week it appeared fresh and strong, like a flame rekindled after clinging so long to glowing embers. It was a wonderful sensation that made Gilbert feel…

"Nnguh?" Oz mumbled, Gilbert's smile instantly vanishing, realizing his cold hands must have disturbed him. Tired eyes opening just a crack, hazy green irises sheltered beneath dusty lashes as he blinked slowly, expression slightly bewildered as he appeared to be struggling to figure out if he was awake or not. Withdrawing his hand sharply, embarrassed that he had been caught despite the harmlessness of the act, Gilbert mentally cursed himself for not having the tact to simply withdraw carefully and pretend that he hadn't noticed the boy waking. "Mmm?"

"H-Hey," Gilbert said with an awkward smile, suddenly feeling a lot more nervous, as he often did whenever Oz was _actually_ awake and speaking to him. Oz did not respond, the lack of expression on his face an indicator of his mental debate between waking up and rolling over and going back to sleep. The former option appeared to win out, the blonde's eyes closing as he stretched lazily and took a deep breath, releasing a long, tired sigh.

"Hey, Gil…" Oz yawned, rubbing his eyes hard to try and rid himself of drowsiness. Despite the fact that he had been out of his coma just over a month and a half now, his exercises still took a lot out of him, so he regularly slept between visiting hours. This was actually the first time Gilbert had arrived before the blonde awoke and, judging by the way he was rubbing his eyes hard and keeping his head turned away from Gilbert, he was embarrassed to be caught resting and was trying his best to wake up quickly.

"Um… How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Oz said after a moment, content enough with his state to turn his attention back to his best friend and slip a tired but happy smile on his face. "'n' lazy."

"Heh… Well, you're allowed to be," Gilbert said with a smile of his own, something that always appeared to come remarkably easily whenever it was just the two of them together like this. He collected his usual chair from where it stood against the wall and moved it to its usual spot next to the blonde's bed, unaware that his friend was watching him with a curious gaze until he raised his head and their eyes met. Oz looked as though he was trying to figure something out, but his expression became neutral the moment he registered the Gilbert was looking at him.

What? Was he…?

Gilbert felt his stomach tighten, trying his best not to let that tension spread and show in his body language. Great… the quality of his oh-so-wonderful day was probably written all over his face. He really didn't want to talk about it… In fact, he'd almost forgotten about it completely until…

"You l-ook sleepy," Oz observed after another stretch of silence, his smile unwavering.

"Uh…" What should he say? He really didn't-

"You g-onna sit?"

"Ah…?"

"Sit, la-zy bones~" Oz chirped, still smiling, though there was a hint of mirth in the curve of his lips that was undoubtedly caused by the fact that Gilbert had not actually moved a muscle since their eyes had met, frozen in place

Gilbert's face darkened at the realization, before he answered with an awkward, "I… a-alright…" Feeling quite foolish and embarrassed now, he readjusted the angle of the chair slightly before stepping around it and sitting down. As soon as he did so, the blonde nodded towards the cupboard next to his bed, upon which sat a jug of water, an empty glass, a deck of cards and a few Get Well and Christmas cards. Gilbert didn't even notice his body tensing yet again, fists clenching nervously. What was he motioning too? Was he thirsty? There didn't seem to be any new cards for the blonde to show off... Did he want the deck?

Oz chuckled softly, shaking his head, before saying, "Cards, please."

"_Of course he wanted the cards, stupid,"_ Gilbert mentally berated himself as he gathered the deck and placed it carefully into his friend's waiting hands.

"Relax, huh?" Oz said with a small nod of thanks, setting the cards on his lap and moving them around in an attempt to shuffle them without the dexterity of his fickle fingers to assist. The action caused a slightly painful twinge in Gilbert's chest; it still saddened him to see his friend struggle with would have been simple tasks to him before the accident, from moving, to eating, to reading… but it was also inspiring (indeed, fascinating) to see him working so hard without ever asking for help. Yes, he scowled at his hands when they refused to hold something properly, he got embarrassed or annoyed when he had to ask for help with something, and he seemed to enjoy insulting the weights he had been given to exercise with from time to time, but other than that he dealt with his situation very well. He never raised his voice, he never got angry or bitter, responding to most issues with no more than a shrug of the shoulders before simply trying again, giving up or finding an alternative. "Blackjack?" he asked, "Go fish?"

"I…" He wasn't going to ask...? He wasn't… "Sure…"

"Sure…?"

"E-Either is fine."

"Go fish, then~" the blonde said with an affirmative nod, setting the cards down on his lap and sliding several off into two piles, tapping one and proclaiming, "that's yours," before sliding the other pile back onto his lap and gathering them slowly in his hands. "Now," he stated, shuffling back into his pillows once again, a spark of competitiveness in his eyes and a confident smile on his lips, "an-y threes?"

Gilbert quickly snatched up his own pile and scanned his cards, smiling when the blonde released a slightly hoarse bark of laughter when the Nightray was forced to hand over three of his cards on the very first turn ("Twen-ty bucks if I win~" "You can't bet after the game has started…" "Can too~!"). The game continued on as normal, idle chitchat pertaining to the weather or plans for Christmas day and the like, and for that Gilbert was more than thankful. Oz had not ignored the fact that Gilbert had clearly had a long day - he had acknowledged it and offered a quiet suggestion that he relax – but he understood when it was the right time to talk about these things and when it wasn't. Right now, all Gilbert wanted to do was forget everything that had happened before he had entered this room, and Oz was going to help him do that with card games and idle chatter. Even Ada and Oscar would have tried to get something out of him after a few minutes, or made some casual comment about work or stress in an attempt to get him to open up, but instead Oz called him a cheater or a loser and told jokes or stories or riddles, completely ignoring any curiosities he may have had and focusing on the game, instead.

Even after all this time… Oz understood him better than most people…

"What are you smiling at?" the blonde, who appeared unable to keep his own smile from his face, suddenly asked, interrupting the man's thoughts.

Gilbert blinked. "Am I?"

"Yeah!" Oz laughed.

Gilbert honestly hadn't noticed, but that fact, coupled with Oz's own clear contentment, seemed to only make him smile wider. "Well, maybe I'm just…" Just… what? His mind seemed to flounder for the right word, a word he knew well, one he uttered, one he really, really should know.

"Just… Happy?" Oz offered, smiling softly, green eyes alight with an emotion Gilbert could not name, but wished he could. It was something vibrant but gentle, strangely powerful yet comforting…

For a moment he forgot to speak, but then he swallowed and nodded, "Y…. yeah, of course."

The blonde scoffed and shook his head. "Th-then I'm not beating you bad-ly enough!" he announced, looking back at his cards, "Gimmie yo' ten-s."

"Don't have any," Gilbert chuckled at his friend's outstretched hand, reaching down and picking a card from the pile to set face down in the boy's palm, "Go fish."

"Shoot," Oz grumbled, looking like an irritated child as he scanned his cards once again, "Five, then."

"It's my turn."

"So no fives?"

"Oz, you can't take another-"

"How 'bout se-ven?"

"You can't… Look, give me the seven."

"Can't, don' have one~"

"Oz!"

This was exactly what he had needed… Just something to make him laugh, something to make him feel better after a long and horrible day… Of course, that something was Oz. It was _always_ Oz. And… happy…? The familiar word sounded strangely foreign… Something he was afraid to name or acknowledge in case doing so would somehow shatter it.

For years Gilbert had hoped that, upon entering that room, he would be greeted with bright eyes and soft smiles, and words that would wash away his worries and leave nothing but a sense of warmth and contentment in his heart. He would even be glad to accept a jeer or two, because even those had been missed in his best friend's absence. The way his eyes lit up and laughter filled the air was almost worth the torment, after all.

"An-y twos?" Oz asked, accepting the card that his friend hastily offered with a triumphant smirk, "You're so gonna' looose~"

"We'll see," Gilbert said, as though he had some sort of foolproof strategy to win this game of pure luck.

Maybe the blonde's entire demeanor was a little more worn than Gilbert had always hoped and imagined it would be, his limbs thin and weak and eyes and smiles a little dull due to being layered with every-present fatigue, but for him, this was so much better… Because those were all fantasy, while this was reality. For Oz to be awake, for Gil to be able to see those eyes at all… This feeling…

Maybe, just maybe…

He really was happy…

**O-O-O**

**To Be Continued**

**O-O-O**

A large portion of the next chapter is done so hopefully it won't take too long to finish. Thanks to anyone who stopped by and I hope to see you in the next chapter! :)


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